The Child of the Labyrinth
by MichaelaElse
Summary: Then there was nothing. He was gone. She was at home. It was finished. He had no power over her.  But.  He did.  For his Kingdom is as great.  The Seed has been sown.  For she carried the child of the labyrinth.
1. Prologue

This was it, it was going to be over very soon. Oh what were the words, she wanted to kick herself for her forgetfulness, even her obsession with the mysterious red book couldn't help her now as she began to recite her monologue.

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way to the castle beyond the Goblin City, for my will is as strong as yours. And my-"

"Stop" Jareth called out, taking a step towards Sarah. His face held a mask of indifference but his voice held a startled edge, how could this vixen do this to him. "Wait!"

He held up his hand, making sure the crystal in his palm at the level of her eyes, but she didn't see it, her eyes were glazed over and unfocused as if she was in a trance.

"Look Sarah" he urged, his mismatched eyes boring into her. "Look what I'm offering you—" he insisted, his upturned hand and his offering inching towards her. "Your dreams" he continued, his voice taking on a pleading tone but that didn't stop her.

"And Kingdom is great" she continued, her eyes darting from his face, to his offering and off to the side again, averting her gaze from his person.

"I ask for so little" he continued to urge. "Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want" said, trying to keep up with his verbal assault after everything they've been through. He still wanted her.

"Kingdom as great..." she recited, but she fell silent. "Damn! I can never remember that line."

"Fear Me, Love Me, Do as I say and I will be your slave" he continued on regardless even though he knew she wouldn't take heed of him.

"My kingdom is great" she said, her voice so unsure of herself. "My kingdom is great" she repeated, a confident edge to her voice as she finally got the courage to look up at his face, her heart hammering in chest, her pulse echoing in her ears and made her head ache, but that wasn't what was hurting her the most—it was her heart, the ache in her chest as she looked into his eyes, the hurt finally evident in the stoic mask as it crumbled.

"You have no power over me" she said with a waver in her voice. "You have no power over me!" she screeched.

Then there was nothing. He was gone. She was at home. It was finished. He had no power over her.

But.

He did.

For his Kingdom is as great.

The Seed has been sown.

For she carried the child of the labyrinth.


	2. Chapter I

A/N: Well, well, I guess people like this story, ne?

Now, I would like more than one review if there's been like 120-odd hits and 4 alerts and some favourites, ok?

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**Chapter I**

"Mommy, Again"

"No, not tonight" Sarah mildly chastised at her son's antics-as she closed the little red book but not forgetting to remove the book mark from their place and put it back to the front.

"But—" the little boy persisted, his eyes shone with sadness but also with underlining mirth as he tried to worm his way around into beginning his favourite book again.

"No, Gareth" she said sternly, her lips drawn into a tight thin line as she locked eyes with her son. What was that saying? Rule with an iron fist? No, to be cruel is to be fair? Or something like that, looking at her son's crest-fallen face she wanted to give in and sigh and begin the book again to bring his merriment back but she didn't and stood from his bed, still clutching the book to her chest. She didn't know why she read him the god forsaken book every night, but she felt...compelled to.

"Sorry, Mother" he whispered, his head bowed as he suddenly found the quilt around him needed a close inspection, his shoulders sagged just slightly. A few moments passed in silence then he began to move, wiggling under the covers from his sitting position to lay down with his head sinking into the plush feather pillow. He stifled a yawn. "G'Nite" he mumbled as he closed his eyes.

Sarah had to smile, if only a small one as she whispered a 'Good Night' back to her son as she made her way to his door, glancing over her shoulder she finally turned out his bedroom light and slowly and with practised ease, she quietly clicked the door shut. Finally she let out a chest-heaving sigh; she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to collect herself as she clutched the small red leather book to her person.

"Oh, Jareth" she mumbled, her digits slowly caressing the lush cool leather as she made her way down the hall to her own room. "I w—" but she stopped herself, stopping in her tracks as she began to say those deadly words. "No" she defiantly hissed as she narrowed her eyes, her weakness forgotten but it all came flooding back to her as she remembered those eyes, those mismatched blue and green eyes that reminded her of his father day in and day out. Oh how she still wished that Gareth didn't have those eyes, he had dark hair just like hers but why, oh why, did he have to still haunt her through her son's innocent eyes.

o0o0o0o0o

_The ominous wind howled, the trees groaned under the onslaught and as the unseen force picked up the blinding sand, the eerie silence sent chills down his spine. He was stood on a bluff, his gaze fell upon the vast expanse of the labyrinth, the never ending, twisting and turning paths and small square gardens were just lines and small specks from this distance. His small arms clung this body, his small chubby hands rubbing rapidly along his sleeves as he desperately tried to warm himself up, for some reason he felt cold to the bone even with the bright light of the...sun beating down on him? His wide eyes went up to the sky, the clouds silently drifted by, offering little company as he glanced around him again. He was alone. His eyes didn't deceive him but in his heart, the warmth that replaced the sheer cold emptiness within his chest told him he wasn't alone._

_The warmth danced along his skin, much like a snake coiling around him or hands holding him._

"_Who's there?" he meekly called out, his voice was so small it hardly carried on the breeze._

_Silence._

"_I must be hearing things" Gareth muttered to himself as he began to wander around._

"_No, you're not hearing things, young Prince"_

_Upon hearing the haunting voice, Gareth turned round to find nothing out of the ordinary, there was no one in sight._

"_Who's there?" he called out, a waver in his voice but it still held a hard edge to try and convince himself of his own courage for his young age. A tingling sensation worked its way up from thebase of his back to the nape of his neck._

"_A friend" the voice answered, the voice was deep but could neither be defined as masculine or feminine. _

_The sound of the voice made Gareth look around, turning on the spot as he looked all around him, the voice sounded like it came from everywhere and nowhere in the same._

"_You don't need to be afraid, young Prince" the voice began, Gareth's distress very evident._

"_I'm not afraid" Gareth piped up, finally stopping his turning circle, finding it futile to try and find the source of the disembodied voice. "And why are you calling me, Young Prince?" he retorted, a scowl marring his angelic face._

_The voice bit back a hearty laugh, which made Gareth scowl even more._

_As if the voice could see Gareth's reaction the laugh died._

"_Of course, the Goblin King doesn't know of you" the voice almost sounded saddened._

"_He's real?" Gareth asked, his curiosity getting the better of him._

_Upon hearing those words, the voice grew silent as if contemplating what to say next._

"_It's time for you to wake up, Young Prince"_

"_But I—" Gareth couldn't finish his exclaim before he felt the tell tale signs of rousing from sleep. Then everything went blank._

His eyes slowly fluttered open, the light flickered behind his eyelids with a red glow.

"Come on, Gareth, time to get up for school"

"Yes, Mother"


	3. Chapter II

A/N: Well, I've only posted 2 chapters and I've had more hits on this than my Doctor Who fanfic that's got 42k+ words lol

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**Chapter II**

"FREAK!" "WEIRDO!"

Gareth clenched his eyes shut, his hands clapped over his ears as he tried to rid himself of their jeering remarks. But it didn't help, finally he gave up and glared at the crowd of kids, he wanted to frown, why did they have to treat him like this all because of how he looked?

"Why don't you leave me alone?" Gareth hissed, staring daggers at the crowd that formed around him, most of them were mainly boys, either from his class or another but all in the same year.

"Why should we do that Weirdo Williams?" one asked, his voice spilling with mocking sarcasm, upon hearing the nickname many snickered.

"Oh I don't know, before I make you disappear like your mother, Kevin" Gareth droned, his eyes hard as he locked eyes with said boy. The boy had mousy blond-brown hair and hazel eyes; the boy was the main antagonist, hiding behind his own pain from his mother leaving his father.

Upon hearing the gibe, Kevin stomped up to Gareth, even though they were the same age you could call Kevin a heavy weight and Gareth a super-light weight by their builds. Gareth gulped, tilting his head up to continue his staring match with the mountainous boy.

Kevin took the front of Gareth's jumper into his fist and pulled Gareth towards him, he lowered his head so he could lock eyes with Gareth.

"At least I had both of my parents, scum" Kevin hissed, a wicked smirk upon his face, oh, he wasn't done yet. "At least I know who my father is" he added.

Gareth took in ragged breaths, trying to calm himself from Kevin's first comment, but upon hearing his next, he lost his self control and launched himself on Kevin, making him tumble to the ground, the hard ground stung but the fight was on.

"Get off!" Kevin gritted out as he flailed to stop Gareth's blows.

o0o0o0o0o

"I'm sorry, " the Principle said, the greying man looked at the young woman over the chunky black rim of his glasses.

"Is there anything else? Sarah asked her voice pleading as she looked at the elementary school principle.

"Temporary Expulsion is the only option, Ms. Williams. Young Gareth has been getting into fights constantly and as a result has been disrupting the class" Mr. White explained.

"You decide to expel my son for being bullied?" Sarah questioned, her voice loaded with anger that she finally gave up to repress. "You should expel those antagonists not my son"

Mr. White wanted to sigh, he knew this was going to happen; it was always the same with every parent, coming in his office and defending their child like they are a living saint and could do no wrong. He had his doubts that Gareth was truly at wrong but he couldn't expel everyone from his class other than him to rid him of this problem, no, it had to be done this way. He shook his head, confirming the negative.

Sarah thinned her lips into a line, her eyes growing hard, but there was nothing she could do. She wanted to sigh; she knew it would come down to this, before it was being removed from class, detention and being detained at recess. She nodded.

"Thank you anyway, Mr. White. Is there any work that I could take home for Gareth so he can keep up with his studies?" she politely asked, god, she hated keeping her temper in check but she had to for her son's sake.

"Of Course, Ms. Williams"

o0o0o0o0o

"But I don't want to go to Grandpa's and Karen's" he whined, looking at his mother as he hunted around the apartment for her keys. "It won't be any fun without Toby to play with" he continued, playing with his cereals.

"No buts"

He wanted to pout, and that's exactly what he did as he scraped his spoon around the bowl.

"Now get ready"

"Yes Mother"

Gareth hopped down from his stool from the breakfast bar and headed towards his bedroom.

o0o0o0o0oo

The ride to his grandparents was... well... boring?

Yes, it was boring and it was more boring at his grandparents, his Grandfather was at work, Karen was being Karen and Toby was at school so he was banished to his mother's old room to do his school work.

"I hate my life" he muttered, his pencil hovering over his work, he stared blankly at it, the questions on the page forgotten at he retreated into his own mind.

His lips thinned in concentration as he searched within himself, his mother never talked about his father, was he really that horrible that she didn't want his name mentioned within her presence? How could she live with him, knowing that he was the son of the man she hated?

"_She doesn't hate him Young Prince"_

"Karen?" he asked, turning round towards the door, the door was closed, and he would have liked the door to be locked but Karen didn't condone secrecy, like he left it. He knotted his brows together, he swore he heard someone.

"_Still believe you're hearing things?"_

Gareth's eyes grew large with surprise.

"It's you" he hushed.

_The voice chuckled, it was the same voice, and it felt like it was coming from everywhere – as if it filled the whole room and consumed it within its echo._

"_Your Grandmother would find it humorous to find you talking to yourself in here, Young Prince"_

"You still haven't answered me" he hissed, his voice lowered, god if Karen decided to eavesdrop she would find him crazy, talking to himself. "WHO are you?"

"_I am No One" the voice answered, obviously answering cryptically to try and not answer the question all together. _

"Fine. WHAT are you?" Gareth retorted, turning in his chair and moving to stand up in the centre of the room.

The voice was silent for many moments, Gareth didn't know whether he was imagining it all or the voice decided not to answer him.

"_I am the spirit of the Labyrinth"_

Gareth let out an amusing snort.

"That book is fiction" he replied, not convinced, but his logical mind couldn't comprehend this voice unless he was actually going mad.

"_That is what your Mother wants you to believe"_

"How do you know my mother?"

"_She is the Champion of the Labyrinth, the first to defeat me and the Goblin King for many a century"_

"I don't believe you, you're just a voice"

"_You saw me and the Goblin City"_

"That was a dream"

The voice remained silent for a moment.

"_Look into the mirror, Young Prince"_

Gareth was hesitant at first, but as if his body had a mind of its own, he found himself standing in front of his reflection in the nearly full length mirror on the wall.

"I don't see anything" Gareth snapped "Just me, as usual like you look into a mirror"

"_This mirror is special"_

"What makes this mirror special?"

"_Because it's a window"_

And as the final syllable lift nonexistent lips, Gareth's reflection disappeared and was replaced with a view of the Labyrinth and beyond that the Goblin City. Slowly he lifted his hand to where the surface of the mirror should be but his finger tips caressed nothing.

"Gareth"

The spell was broken, Gareth snapped his head to the door, it was his mother, and slowly his gaze went back to the mirror to find his mismatched eyes staring back at him.


	4. Chapter III

**A/N:** I'm sorry I missed yesterday's update, since I'm trying to punch out a chapter (even though they're small) everyday, so I'm trying to make three updates (or one big chappie) for today so I can catch up but I'm not promising anything considering I've got a baby to look after.

**Comment Replies:**

**Is Jareth alive?  
><strong>Yes he is.

**Will there be J/S love?  
><strong>Yes there will but sometime later, I don't know when since this story is writing itself.

**JHaines** – Yes she will be in a lot of trouble for keeping Gareth from him.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter III<strong>

"What did you think you were doing?" Sarah snapped, stomping over to the other side of the room and roughly took hold of Gareth's hand and dragged him away from the mirror.

"I-," Gareth began but he silenced himself, what was he going to say? That he was going to walk through that mirror into the unknown Underground?

"I don't want you anywhere near that mirror again" Sarah hissed crouching down to her son's level, he was only seven but he looked more like a nine year old, but of course he wasn't huge like that Kevin he kept going on about.

"But Mother-" Gareth exclaimed, his face full of confusion and sadness, why was his mother acting like this? He tried to tug himself away but her grip upon his wrist was too strong and he only managed to whimper his discomfort for all his efforts. "What is that place?" he asked, his curiosity peeking as he glanced over his shoulder towards the now normal mirror.

"It's nothing." Sarah stated, she didn't want to get into it with her son, she followed his gaze towards the nearly full length mirror on the wall, her eyes showed her panic, her rapid breaths heaving her chest up and down as she clung to her son as if he might disappear. She couldn't lose him, he was one of the only things that made her life worth living after leaving the Labyrinth.

"The Labyrinth said it was the Underground-" Gareth began yet again, his eyes transfixed upon the mirror, not even bothering to look at his mother, his voice began to drift off as his eyes became dilated and unfocused. Gareth lifted his free hand towards the mirror, his fingertips wanting to caress the cool reflective glaze.

Sarah tugged at his wrist again, bringing him out of his revelry, his gaze snapped back to his mother so fast that he could have received whiplash.  
>"I don't want to hear any of that again."<p>

"But-"

"No buts, Gareth, I want you to ignore that voice." Sarah insisted, her eyes locking with her son's, her unease of the mismatched eyes were dwarfed by the fear of losing her son to the Underground. "Promise Me"

Gareth shook her head in the negative, his eyes not leaving his mother's to glance at the mirror, he thought better of it.

"Promise Me." Sarah repeated, her voice holding a sharp edge that made Gareth wince, why was his mother acting like this?

"No" He finally said out loud, shaking his head slowly in the negative again, his wide eyes looking up at his mother's. "I don't wanna promise." he said, reigniting his struggling effort until he wiggled free from his mother's grip.

"Gareth-"

"NO!" Gareth shouted, taking a few steps back away from his mother.

Sarah recoiled from the shout; she knelt down in her old bedroom, powerless as she let her son flee from the room. What had she done? In her fear of losing her son, she might have lost him anyway.

Gareth fled, blind to everything around him as he fled the house, fled the front yard and rain the length of the street until he arrived at the lush green and welcoming park.

His chest heaved up and down as he tried to calm his breathing as he slowed down into a walk, he momentarily closed his eyes, gah, he was stupid to have run off but he didn't know any other seven year-olds that think before they leap.

"I hate her, I hate her, I hate her" he repeated like a mantra as he edged towards the small wooden dock for small rowing boats on the boating lake or was it just a large duck pond? Ugh, he didn't have time for trivial questions as he eased himself to the wooden decks and swung his legs to dangle over the edge. His mantra fell silent in his throat and swallowed down a lump as he repressed his childish urge to cry.

"_Young Prince?"_

Gareth didn't answer the voice, he clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth together as he tried not to answer the voice that haunted him.

The voice fell silent, waiting the young boy to answer it or try and spark the conversation after the agonising piercing silence.

"Why does she hate that place?" he asked his voice quiet and so down trodden as he gazed at his dangling feet and the lapping of the water.

"_She doesn't hate that place" the voice finally answered, its voice was clear in his ears more so than the voices of nature surrounding him._

"She certainly acts like it" he retorted, his hair falling into his face as he looked up to the small island in the middle of the placid body of water where the ducks and geese and the resident swan couple nested. The weeping willow branches limp but still full of life kissed the water's surface as they danced in the breeze.

The voice fell silent yet again, Gareth wondered if the voice (considering the voice did have a body) had a consciousness because of the long pauses as if it was contemplating what to say much like a human.

"_Many a thing happened there, Young Prince" the voice confessed. "Many of them changed her life"_

"She went to the Underground?" he asked, glancing around- a habit he had to get out of- to find the body of the voice.

The voice chuckled; acting much like a man but it still had that undefined voice that could either be male or female, the voice consisting of low gravel to it, as if drawling out its answers but still held that high pitch that no masculine larynx could replicate.

"_Yes, Young Prince" the voice began "She ran through my Labyrinth walls to win back her brother"_

"Uncle Toby?"

"_The very one"_

"So the book is real?"

_The voice remained silent for a moment, as if replying with a nod and then remembering it's mistake and confirmed with its disembodied voice. "Yes. The Underground is real"_

"Can I go, to the Underground?" the boy asked, his eyes alight with joy as his face lit up with a dazzling toothy white smile.

"_No Young Prince" The voice replied, it almost sounded saddened at the development. "Not Yet"_

"But why?"

"_It is my time to go, Young Prince"_

"But I don't want you to go!" the boy exclaimed, in his rush he slipped on the moss covered planks and plunged to the water, his scream lingering as he disappeared from view, well he would have met the water if he wasn't suspended above it with his arms braced in front of him, his palms caressing the water, ripples extending from his palms, sparking dust danced along his skin.

Slowly he...floated up and placed back on the wooden decking?

A screech of an eagle echoed around the park, it felt otherworldly as the sound rippled through Gareth's body. The boy's chest heaved as he started at his now normal hands, his creamy skin void of sparkles.

"_Return to your Mother, Young Prince" The voice finalised, and then the warm feeling left Gareth with an endless feeling of loneliness._


	5. Chapter IV

A/N:

A long chapter for you guys, a more in-depth view of our lil' Gareth here, being bullied can mess with you, I know from experience.

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**Chapter IV**

The voice had left him, it didn't matter how many times he called out in heated whispers the voice didn't answer, maybe he was actually going mad or his imagination was running dry that's why he couldn't hear the voice?

He flung himself onto his bed and his head dove into pillow and he let out a roar of frustration, the plush pillow muffling his cries as he let lose the pent up anger, his mother had banished him to his room on arrival from returning from his Grandparents, he hadn't really spoken to his mother since he fled to the park... and all that 'glowy' stuff happened. He wracked his brain, floating above water wasn't possible, even Jesus couldn't accomplish that feat so... well, he couldn't really count Jesus since he wasn't real to his mind anyway, sure he had no qualms with religious folk, he personally didn't believe in the creation theory, maybe he got it from his mother, always quoting Darwin and 'Magic doesn't exist, it's just illusions' whenever he pretended he was a knight slaying a dragon or he was a magician fighting off evil goblins, ogres and other creatures of the night. He tilted his head, letting his skin and himself breathe much needed cool air, after a few moments of laying on his stomach he flipped himself over to lay on his back, his head sinking within the pillow as he looked up at his ceiling, he was sure the ceiling was supposed to be white but after years without being cleaned or repainted it had faded to an off-white colour. His eyes rolled around the room, taking in the mountains of toys that overflowed his red toy chest, consisting of figurines from 'Thunder Cat', stuffed animals and an assortment of cars and toy trucks ranging in sizes from the dainty Matchbox to his large yellow plastic dumper truck.

His eyes travelled around the room, taking in the rich blue carpet that went with the blue paint on all four walls, both had stuff littered everywhere, posters were pinned to the walls with tack pins and cars were left littered around the room on his town carpet, many had being kicked and were on their sides and where on the green grassy parks that divided the roads and made a route along the rug.

Gareth let out a sigh, he was so confused – why did his life have to change from one extreme to another, he had a boring life only consisting of himself and his mother, being bullied at school and returning home to retreat into fantasy where he was all powerful and he could punish the bullies that made his life miserable. He had a happy life with his mother, she was his everything and to be honest he never missed a father that he never had to begin with. Sure, he asked out of curiosity when he was younger about his father when he noticed other children had both parents at functions and when they were being picked up from school, the only replies he got were short and very scarce in detail as if she was only brushing over the subject. Did he blame her? No, how could be blame her, he couldn't judge his father's character on the grounds he doesn't know the man who sired him. He came up with the thought that he got this two-toned eyes thing from his father's side of the family, none of his immediate family on his mother's side never had this anomaly, the doctor's called it...complete het-ero-chro-mia? He wasn't sure if he had got it right – his mother's technique in splitting words up into syllables and spelling them how they sounded for the most part helped but other words didn't use that same rule— having a name for what he had didn't help him in the slightest, his classmates still called him a freak, because he wasn't 'normal' enough for them and his lack of a father was another jibe they could use to rattle him.

Why did he feel like he didn't belong?  
>Ever since that voice appeared in his life, his life somehow got easier to live with for the most part, having someone to talk to that wouldn't judge or skirt questions was a god send, even though the voice decided now to leave him, when he needed it the most. Right now at this moment in time he felt the most confused and definitely the loneliest in his short life, having his family was great, his mother was his sun he orbited around and Uncle Toby was always there to play with so why now does he feel like there is some bigger piece of himself missing from this picture. His pictures of his mother and himself and his family portrait with Grandpa, Karen and Uncle Toby felt...like a sham, the backdrop of the suburban park or the living room couch where they always have their annual picture taken felt out of place and hollow was the best way to describe it. He felt more and more confused as he searched within himself to find his true place but all he felt was this cold, unforgiving inky blackness that felt like a black hole, sucking the rest of him in on himself and if he didn't find out what was missing in his life, he felt like he would lose himself forever to this growing emptiness.<p>

But when that voice appeared he felt his whole body rise in temperature just a few fractions of a degree higher and that emptiness within himself ceased to exist for that moment, even if it was for a fleeting moment and when it spoke of that story he treasured fell from its none existent lips, the Underground, he felt his heart race and his childish giddiness consumed him as he eagerly wanted more of this so called Underground.

He slowly closed his eyes in bliss as he cherished those memories, even if they just started a few days ago, he felt that warm sensation flood through him as his eyelids closed around his mismatched eyes and darkness consumed his vision – just for a moment.

_He felt weightless a he was falling? He could feel his hair whip round at his face as the falling sensation made his long-boyish tresses rise up from his head in a swaying spiky motion, as the ground rose to greet him, he tried to align his legs below him as he braced for impact, well it wasn't that intense as he carefully met the ground, he was somewhere, wherever this somewhere was, he glanced around, he was in crowd of people that were oblivious to him, as if he didn't exist, maybe he didn't exist in his dream world._

_He looked around, this place was grand wherever this place was, he strode forward, being mindful of the people that surrounded him, he slipped past small gaps between bodies of masses as they parted to the sides of the large room, upon them leaving him out in the open in the middle of this wide space he suddenly felt exposed and very, very small as he gazed around the hall, it was huge and the ceiling wasn't so ridiculously high like an English cathedral. The stone walls were sparsely decorated with tapestries that looked like something from the Tudor period of English History. He licked his suddenly dry lips as he gazed up the hall, upon raised dais stood a regal looking wooden chair, dark stained wood with light wood inlay by the looks of it for decorative purposes but from this distance he couldn't see how intricate the detail really was, slowly he edged towards the raised area but halted as he noticed the imposing throne was occupied with a man, who was dressed rather strangely but as he glanced around at the other people that had separated into two groups around the walls of the room he actually believed he was the one that was dressed rather strangely to their standards._

_Looking back at the man he noticed that he had blondish hair that had faded into silver and peppered grey with old age, his face was lightly creased with wrinkles around the eyes._

"_We are gathered here this day for the claiming of heirs" the man drawled, his weathered eyes travelled across the crowd, Gareth's breath hitched in his throat as the man's eyes swept over him to the other side of the room. Gareth let out a inaudible sigh of relief, he was reassured that they couldn't see him._

"_Will claimants step forwards and state your claim"_

_None of the crowd moved, only a few shuffled as if squirming under the High Kings gaze as he scrutinized the court._

_A man appeared from nowhere, he didn't appear from the crowd, and he just appeared from thin air in front of the High King of the Underground with a puff of glittering smoke. Gareth stayed still, he wanted to jump back in alarm but something niggling in the back of his mind accepted this sudden appearance. The man had his back to Gareth so the boy couldn't tell much about the man except he had the strange style of clothes that everyone else was wearing – tight light blue britches and high shiny black leather riding boots that came up just below his knee, a worn leather waist jacket and by the looks of it from behind rather large and eccentric lapels that reached his shoulders._

"_I, Jareth the Goblin King, claim the mortal Tobias Williams the wished away as my heir"_

_Gareth blinked, his mouth slack as if he were catching flies, did he hear the man right, he introduced himself as the Goblin King, as in THE Goblin King? Gareth licked his lips again, he shook his head, he couldn't be on about Uncle Toby, right? Sure the Spirit of the Labyrinth claimed that his mother wished away his uncle but...he shook his head, trying to wake his brain up and kick it into gear but it didn't seem to happen as he blinked his eyes in a tired fashion, why was he becoming so tired and drained._

_The High King looked down at the fair haired King in front of him; he scrutinized the grown Fae in front of him, a small frown upon his face._

"_I accept the claim of Tobias Williams, the Wished Away as the Child of the Labyrinth" He finalised._

"_I reject the claim!" a familiar voice called out, the masculine tone of the voice growled out, the high feminine pitch that confused most of the gathered crowd, whispers erupted in the hall, followed soon after the masculine gritty voice as if it were an echo._

"_Who dares contest the High King" the Old Fae bellowed, standing from his throne. The whispered of the room fell silent, adjacent parties looked from one another in silence, no one stepped forward._

"_I, the Spirit of the Labyrinth" the voice replied, the feminine tone all but dwarfed and swamped in the masculine angered tone._

_Hushed whispers filtered around the room._

_The one known as the High King staggered back into his throne, his hands gripping the arms in a tight grip that sent his knuckles white._

_The Goblin King turned to face the rest of the hall, his mismatched eyes dancing along the vast space to try and find the source of the voice._

_Slowly a dark blue shining orb filtered into view, the air around the magical sphere rippling with warmth, Gareth's eyes lit up within a second of feeling the warmth radiate around the room._

_A scowl appeared on the Goblin King's face as he faced the orb floating at around his chest height, how the Spirit of HIS Labyrinth dare defy him his heir._

"_On what grounds?" the High King finally said, his voice consuming the room much like the spirits but without the magical ripples that flowed when doing so._

"_On the grounds, High King that the Child of the Labyrinth is always born from the Goblin King it is never claimed"_

"_Desperate times call for desperate measures" The High King replied, his eyes narrowing at the orb. "None of us Fae have conceived in over four centuries, tradition can be rewritten" he drawled, relaxing his grip on the arm rests of his regal throne._

"_It is more than tradition; it has been so since the beginning of the Underground"_

"_It is also written that the Spirit of the Labyrinth watches over the Child of the Labyrinth, have you been watching over the Williams' child since his arrival back in the Aboveground?" Jareth remarked, his voice laced with a mocking sarcasm that made the orb pulse and darken in colour, slowly the orb grew, a glow forming a shape of a human but no details could be noticed since the body was translucent. The orb, now within the blue shadow like transparent man, sent out angry pulses into the room._

"_Rinthy, why are you angry?" Gareth was surprised when he heard his own voice speak out, his mind was in a complete muddle, a mist fogged up his thoughts as he brought his hand to his face to rub his eye with his relaxed fist, his hand trying to work away nonexistent sleep from his eye._

_The hall fell silent as they trained their eyes upon the child that had suddenly appeared close to the Spirit of the Labyrinth and the Goblin King, a few gasped 'a mortal' before being hushed by a wave from the High King._

_The spirit's translucent body, that seemed to be male turned to see the child behind him, if Gareth could confirm its facial features he would have come to the conclusion that the Spirit was surprised to see him._

"_Hello, Young Prince"_

_Gareth's hand slowly slid from his face and he opened his eyes, he looked around the Spirit of the Labyrinth to the High King and then the rather imposing Goblin King, their eyes locked together – blue and brown bore into another set of mismatched blue and brown._


	6. Chapter V

**A/N:** Now, I started writing this the morning after I posted the last chapter.

Comments:

**JHaines:** I'm glad you loved the chapter and it's nice to know I enthral my readers that much but I must say that this is only the beginning, sure they've met but it will be a few chapters before they meet in the flesh.

**Disclaimers:** Of course, everyone should know the rules by now, I do not own Labyrinth, all rights belong to the late Jim Henson and others credited for the creation of characters, original story and all other aspects of the film.

I do (on the other hand) own this plot and original characters that I create and areas of the Underground that weren't in the original film or the recent manga series (that to be honest I'm not fond of).

As all of you can guess, this isn't canon to the manga series since it happens before the start of the series but there are few additions to this story that refer to it, like Jareth's choice to have Toby as his heir, but that's as far as it goes for the moment.

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**Chapter V**

Those eyes, why did that child have his eyes, he was the only one of his siblings to inherit his two-toned eyes from his late mother and no one had the exact same eyes, some Fae with Elvish blood had two-toned eyes but they were mainly within the same eye – no, he didn't know anyone with two entirely different eye colour except for himself. He narrowed his eyes, his stern face showing slight agitation through his usual stoic mask as he gazed down at the child- a child with witch's hair- Fae kind still frowned upon the murky hair-colouring with disdain and that ridiculous belief of a child being born with that inky black hair was a bad omen.

"Young Prince?" Jareth questioned, taking a step towards Gareth, he was surprised that the child didn't take a tentative step back as he advanced on the child but of course he didn't let it show in his facial expression or his body language as he continued to stalk towards Gareth with long strides.

Gareth tilted his head to the side as he studied the man before him, his hair had a gravity defying feathered look, the flaxen hair adding to the effect of weightlessness, so unlike any hair that he had seen before, hair was either a shaggy mess on your head or free from frizz and styled to look very cartoonish and uniformed. The sharp edge to his jaw, so very masculine and yet any woman would envy the beauty but he couldn't look away from those eyes, sure they were the same colour as his own, icy blue left eye and a warm brown right eye, they were the same to the very shade but Gareth could /sense/ the difference, they eyes he was looking into were sharp and calculating as if he was trying to dive and search into his soul but they held a weathered quality that only came with age- he had seen that very look in his mother's eyes on many occasions- but this man's dwarfed what he had seen within his mother's eyes by a huge majority.

"You're the Goblin King" Gareth piped up, finally blinking but he still didn't take his eyes of the imposing figure before him, his was captivated, enthralled in their dangerous beauty that he had become oblivious to his surroundings and of course the very at tentative audience.

That remark had thrown Jareth, so the boy knew who he was? Impossible, he hadn't shown himself in the Aboveground, unless he was sent to take wished away children but he never took social visits since that Sarah girl had defeated him and beat the Labyrinth. A small smirk graced his lips, he lifted a brow a fraction higher in a jesting motion, if anyone else would have done that they would have looked like they were jesting but for himself he looked cruel (that he excelled at with little practice).

"Oh really?" he began, sinking into a squat so he was at eye-level with the child. "Now, how to do you know that?" his riding crop appeared within his hands, his right taking the coiled leather grip and the other had his palm pointing at the sky, the lethal end on the riding crop resting on his gloved palm innocently.

Gareth looked at the man, his arms at his sides as he tilted his head back to the centre, he had no choice but look at the man in front of him, considering he was that close. Now he could take in some details on his...odd clothes, he was wearing this odd waist jacket, and he was correct in assuming that the thing had eccentric lapels that reached the shoulders but the right side had more fabric, so the thing didn't button up on the centre but off to the side like old military uniforms. The jacket didn't have much detail in it, none of his attire screamed extravagance like in the story.

"You're in the story that my mother reads to me at night" came the boy's innocent reply, the spirit wanted to cringe, now this isn't how he wanted this...meeting to occur, he wanted it to happen sometime soon but not here in front of all of the Fae court but maybe this could be used as an advantage.

Jareth's lips tugged into a scowl from his playful smirk, now how could that boy know of /that/ book, there was only one copy in existence and that book had remained with...  
>His eyes hardened from their playful selves, his eyes icy and ablaze at the same time, the change made Gareth take a small step back.<p>

"So you're her son..." he replied, his voice low that only Gareth could hear, his voice was like a dagger that cut through Gareth as he winched at the imposing man before him so much so he took another step backwards.

"Leave him be" the Spirit spoke up finally, making Jareth lock eyes with the eerie blue figure that looked like a walking shadow.

"So you chose that woman's bastard as the Child of the Labyrinth!" Jareth snapped, his voice laced with malice as he stood to his full height.

"A Child of the Labyrinth is born, never chosen" the spirit recited yet again.

That made Jareth flare his nostrils in anger, his face remained stoic and his body rigid to repress his true rage – courtly etiquette had to be uphold.

"A Child of the Labyrinth is always born by the Goblin King" the High King spoke up, standing from his throne yet again but this time he began to descend from the raised dais towards Jareth, the spirit of the Labyrinth and Gareth.

Gareth eyes darted to the regal man that approached his eyes wide with boyish wonder and curiosity, the High King looked like he came out of some medieval fantasy with his red robes that flowed down to the floor and his tunic looked like a knights minus the long sword of course.

The High King looked down at the boy with his hazel eyes, merriment was the main emotion that finally reached his face and pulled his lips into a small smile that didn't go unnoticed by the Goblin King or the Spirit of the Labyrinth.

"What's your name young man?" the rich deep voice caressed Gareth's ears, it took a few moments to bring himself to his senses and replied to the man before him.

"Gareth Williams" the boy replied.

The High King thinned his lips and gave a small nod and a 'hmm' noise before he looked up to the blue figure that stood to the boy's side like a ever present body guard. He gave another nod to the figure who returned the nod.

The Spirit placed a none existent hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Time to go, Young Prince" the spirit replied, the bright orb pulsed and a sparkling tendril flowed through the translucent body and down his arm to his fingertips of the hand on Gareth's shoulder.

And with that the boy and the spirit was gone.

The High King turned his gaze towards the rest of the court.

"You are all dismissed"

With that order all left except for the Goblin King whom stayed at the older Fae's side.

"Now, Son, tell me of this Champion of the Labyrinth"


	7. Chapter VI

A/N: Argh, sorry for the lateness of this chapter but I got ill and to be honest this chapter was rather difficult to right even when you haven't got a splitting headache, blocked nose and a wheezy chest, alas, here we are and we've got some Jareth for you in this chapter.

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><p><strong>Chapter VI<strong>

The throne room of the Goblin Castle was void of cackling goblins as they caused mischief, no, upon arriving back at his sanctuary the King had dismissed them in the usual manner of cussing, kicking and just out right throwing them in the bog for those unfortunate few that had decided to try his waning patience and being slow on foot.

Jareth let out an exhausted sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose and caressed his closed eyelids with his thumb and forefinger. Again he let out a shaky breath as he tried to calm his nerves, he let his hand fall casually to hand off the side of the throne as he lounged, his leg hooked over the sloping armrests of his throne, the other leg was firmly rooted to the floor as his elbow dug into his knee, his chin biting into the heel of his upturned palm as he stared into empty space, his eyes open but not seeing as his mind reeled into the past. His lips thinned at the memory, the corners of his mouth turning down to form a small but yet perfectly formed scowl.

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><p><em>The High King regarded his son in silence, he didn't want to repeat himself but he felt the silence tugging at him, he swallowed the growing lump in the back of throat, his hazel eyes a myriad of ever swirling gold, autumnal reds and oranges, burnt sienna browns and flecks of green danced around his iris as he studied his son. The child he watched grow and thrive under peace had become a man- in all the terms, if his imagination wasn't playing tricks on his mind. He had to admit, he was getting on in years, even by Fae terms, but he couldn't forget those eyes. A blue that wasn't tainted by any shade of green, a pure crystalline blue with streaks of electric blue and ever changing as the rolling clouds in the sky and the other a warm welcoming brown that pulled you into it's warm beauty and so unlike its own twin, he could never forget his wife's eyes even though she had long since passed to the otherworld. That child, his ominous ebon hair that had a life of its own, wild and untamed on his head but held its freedom and free rein in a show of defiance and –even for someone so young- regally in his foreign clothes. The chubbiness to his young cheeks still didn't fully hide the resemblance to his son that stood before him. A small smile tugged upon his weary lips and that awoke happiness within the depths of his eyes for many a year.<em>

_Jareth watched his father in disbelief, his eyes hardened and his lips turned into a scowl as he locked eyes with his sire, confusion plagued him and rendered him speechless for the most part as he watched the changes happen upon his father's face, if the corners of his mouth could curl further downward they would have done._

"_Pray tell, Father, what do you find so amusing?" his voice strained as it tried to conquer the silence that hung over the large hall that had been deserted by the High King's order. The defeat of the Goblin King, Crown Prince of the Underground and of course don't forget the Spirit of the Labyrinth had been spread far and wide to the farthest most corners of the known realms, as the rumour first approved many didn't believe the hushed whispers but when the court saw a very withdrawn, disgruntled (more than usual) and easily-angered Goblin King, the rumours became more concrete but more so exaggerated to same extent but everyone had the same outcome – a mortal girl on the curb of womanhood had defeated the Goblin King and the ancient Labyrinth that outdated all existing persons in the Underground that none knew the conception of the ever changing walls that seemed to have its own conscious._

_The High King was broken away from his musings and back to the present, he stared into those eyes Jareth had inherited from his mother, marking him with his Elvin heritage._

"_I asked to know more about this 'Champion of the Labyrinth' of yours" the King repeated as he took an imposing step towards his grown son- a powerful and fair King in his own right but he would forever be his son foremost, a mix of his Mother and himself._

"_There is nothing to tell Father, she was a runner and defeated me and reclaimed her brother"_

"_Then why is it that she stole your heart?" he mused out loud, quirking a dark eyebrow in question, the skin of his brow creasing at the questioning look as he looked at the fair-headed man in front of him, upon the comment he saw Jareth squirm ever so slightly under the parenting gaze._

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><p>He clenched his jaw. Oh, Sarah, why did she have to reject him? Oh she didn't know of the power she held over him, and he was none the wiser until now. How could he have been so stupid to have believed that she would accept him when she herself didn't know her own feelings?<p>

She was but a teenager, on the cusp of womanhood; he was just a villain to her in her fantasy world.

How could he have been so stupid to have not noticed it? And even now he denied himself, he thinned his lips, she stole his heart and still she rejected him, threw everything he had done for her back in his face and those few words he dreaded, 'You have no power over me', oh, but he felt those words rip him to the core, gauging out his heart even now as he closed his eyes, a flash of her face all those years ago fresh within his mind like it was yesterday. A stubborn chin, wide innocent moss green eyes and an angelic face framed by dark brown hair. Oh how he coveted her even so, he wondered if for a moment how she had changed as she grew and his eyes hardened at the thought, why did he still think of that vile girl, he was Crown Prince of the Underground he could have any woman he liked, be her Fae, Elvin, Nymph or any other creature.

He still denied himself.

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><p>"<em>She didn't steal my heart- Father" Jareth growled out, he began to explain but why should he explain himself even to his Father, he wasn't a child anymore so he stopped himself in mid-sentence. He felt his ire wearing away at his calm demeanour.<em>

"_Why question me about that –_harlot _– She is nothing to me now, she rejected and that is the end of it" he continued, puffing out his chest in bravado as he reminded himself of the rejection that stung at him even now._

"_Why, Jareth?" the High King said, the rich-tones of his voice flowed from his lips as his eyes glazed over in anger, the gold of his eyes darkened to burnt and muted reds and the green disappeared entirely._

"_Because that child is her son and, if by sheer resentment or something akin to 'love' she named her child after _YOU" _The King of the Underground continued. His wild hair swept into his face and kissed and caressed his shoulders in movement as he took another step towards his son._

_Jareth set his jaw, as the High King sorely reminded him of the boy's name – the boy called himself Gareth Williams, a Williams child, the surname brought a flicker of hope that his logical mind extinguished before it could burn bright._

"_Another way to torment me so" he argued on relentless, it had been close to nine years since she had defeated him and it had only recently that he had lost himself to ruling his kingdom and of course lost himself to the memory of her and her cruel rejection._

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><p>He craned his head slowly easing it back to rest rather uncomfortably on the back of the throne that sloped down and curved to form the arms. He really didn't find it all too comfortable. He didn't like the extravagance of the High King's throne; Jareth couldn't deny it was finally crafted with intricate inlay and carvings of creatures of old.<p>

How could he have been so stupid?

He had seen those eyes; he saw the recognition on his Father's face as he saw that boy and when he said his name –Gareth Williams- he thought he felt his heart freeze over. Fate could be so cruel.

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><p>"<em>Torment, no, Goblin King, she only wanted to keep your memory alive within her life" the deep voice had returned, its rich and low tones rippling through the wide expanse of the hall with little effort.<em>

_The High King and Jareth turned round and looked about the room and found the tell-tale orb hovering at chest height._

_Both Fae contemplated the Spirit's wise words, the spirit was old as the Underground itself and someone had to be rather foolish to not heed its words._

"_That naive girl should have no need to keep the memory of her villain alive in her life, Spirit" Jareth spat with contained rage, his words rung around the large expanse of the empty court like an echoing gunshot._

"_Ah, but she did" the Spirit chimed, the feminine ring entering the voice as an embodiment of its merriment._

"_It was a custom to name a boy-child after their sire" the spirit continued, the spice of ancient magic pulsed around the empty space._

_Jareth's eyes narrowed his eyes at this 'news', the Spirit of the Labyrinth was trying to convince him that he had sired that child?_

_A small scowl formed on his lips as he stared at the glowing orb, it couldn't be possible- he had never – no, it was lies it had to be._

"_I have never been..." he began but he paused as he found the right word to use without being openly vulgar. "...intimate with the Champion of the Labyrinth" he finished._

"_Fae of this new age do not comprehend old magic" the voice sighed, the pulses were long but few and far between as if to show its disappointment._

_The High King took a step towards the voice and the orb. _

"_What do you mean?" the High King questioned, his eyes warmed up as his gaze fell upon the orb._

"_I mean, High King Anaraward that your son doesn't know of the consequence of his actions of that time"_

"_It was only a ploy to forget her brother and live her dreams" Jareth piped up, what he hated more than being spoken down to from his Father, it was being present while someone was speaking of him like he wasn't even there._

"_But you forget, Goblin King, that while she lived her own dreams, she lived your own also" the Spirit answered without falter._

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><p>He was so blind to the consequence, the Spirit was right, he knew of the power of dreams but he threw them aside just like time, he had done it all for her and what did he get in return, a child? He closed his eyes; he took ragged breaths to calm his nerves. Those innocent eyes stared back at him in wonder from under a dense jagged black fringe. Suddenly as those eyes appeared they vanished from his mind's eye.<p>

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><p><em>Jareth was shocked into silence, which was a feat within itself as the spirit continued to take it upon itself to educate his Father and himself.<em>

"_Have you forgotten how The Lost King of the Underground was conceived?" the spirit asked, but they all knew it was a question that was asked but never was meant to be answered bar any but the Spirit of the Labyrinth as it continued its tale._

"_Born from dreams shared by the Master of the Veil and a mortal when no spirit of magic could wander in the Aboveground without danger."_

"_But that story is just a myth from the Creation of the Underground" Anaraward breathed out in disbelief._

"_I, for young ones like yourselves" the spirit began its voice consuming and dreamy in the same._

_Jareth licked his lips as they had suddenly become dry at this...unexpected turn of events._

"_You Jareth, son of Anaraward, Goblin King and Crown Prince of the Underground, are a Father"_

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><p>Jareth opened his eyes, the bright like of the throne room, his pupils shrank and dilated as his vision tried to accustom to the blinding light.<p>

Oh he was so stupid.


	8. Chapter VII

A/N: Well thanks for the lovely reviews for the last chapter and I want to thank **L'archangel **for asking how I was, I'm much better than I was so I started writing the next chapter.

Comment Replies:

**L'archangel –** I can't wait for the Jareth/Sarah reunion but of course it will have to wait because this is going to be a slow story.

**JHaines-** LOL yup he should have kept it in his breeches most definitely.

Yes, Jareth called him a bastard because that is what he is, Gareth is an illegitimate child; a child born out of wedlock (marriage). And if memory serves me right, in Welsh law bastards sons could inherit but in Norman law this was unheard of – only legitimate issues could inherit. (Taken from the series Cadfael (a warrior that became a monk after the crusades)).

**Chapter VII**

The room was spinning, that's what it felt like, his vision was a blur of his light swirling around his ceiling with a life of its own, and the beams of strong light rotated around the walls light a lighthouse beacon and shadows danced around his room in silence except for the rush of blood echoing in his ears. Oh he felt so sick, his left hand cradled his forehead, not daring himself to move from his bed to even sit up until the room began to slow and finally still. He swallowed the lump forming in the back of his throat as he tried to quell his queasiness, he closed his eyes for a moment but the weightlessness rotating feeling of a roundabout didn't leave him and the darkness only intensified his disorientation tenfold. Slowly he opened his eyes again to a still room, the light had ceased to spin or was it him that had stilled, and he wasn't sure?

Finally he slowly sat up, he was being rather cautious in his movement to ward of the feeling of the spinning to reoccur. Gareth's wide eyes fell around the familiar surroundings of the room, his toys littered his room just like he left them but something felt out of place within his personal sanctuary as he took a second gaze around the room. He continued to gaze around with confusion on his face until it slowly hardened as he searched within himself rather than his bedroom- somehow he felt different in a way he couldn't comprehend, it wasn't like the feeling of finding a new tooth coming through or growing an inch taller but something was different about himself and he could, he searched for the right word, sense, yes, sense a change within himself as he lowered his hand to study it with a wide eyed wonder.

He thought back to earlier today at the park and recollecting the way his hands sparkled in their own light, he thinned his lips in concentration, he looked upon his small chubby hands in wonder, but they looked the same as they always had but he couldn't shake the images of the sparkles dancing along his skin like fine drifting glitter.

But it couldn't be possible, everything he was experiencing couldn't be happening no one can hover above water and then float back up to solid ground. IT. WAS. JUST. NOT. POSSIBLE. But a small part of him nagged at him to reconsider his decision on these happenings that seemed to belong more so to him than the world he lived in. Oh how he wished magic, knights and creatures such as dragons actually existed, the yearning of childhood adventures of make-belief had never waned or cracked under the pressure of the grown world that he should be entering anytime soon and leave fairytale adventures in their books because that's where they belonged, in the imagination of a young child and according to his mother, teachers and his own peers at school he should be leaving them behind. But, he didn't want to leave them behind, they were his only chance to escape his horrid life and forget the things he was missing within his life and within himself but he still didn't know what he was missing, how could he know what he was missing when he didn't know what he was looking for to complete his life.

"I wish I had somewhere where I felt like I belonged" he whispered, a sigh escaped him as he rolled off the side of the bed and got to his feet.

He knew he was confined to his room but his mother couldn't stay angry with him forever, right?  
>He wasn't so sure about it though as he eyed his closed door that was void of hangings and posters. Did he have the nerve to exit his room and try and scrump something without his mother finding out- he wasn't so sure but the growing growling of his stomach solidified his resolve as he edged towards his door and grasped the handle and slowly opened his door a crack to peek into the hallway that lead to each room of the apartment. He strained his ears to try and detect any sound in the silence of the apartment. It was strange not hearing the muffled sound of the television or the obvious aromas and sounds from the kitchen as his mother cooked. He didn't know the exact time but as his stomach flipped and rolled with displeasure of being empty he assumed it should be about time for dinner but the silence nagged at him and he felt goose bumps rise and dance along his skin and it took everything in him to repress a rolling shiver of his entire body.<br>"Mom?" he meekly called out, opening his bedroom door wide as he stepped into the long hallway, staring down at the half opened door that lead into the kitchen reception room. Gareth licked his lips as he slowly edged his way down the corridor in silence, one foot in front of the other, and again and he repeated it until he halted in front of the door, the room on the other side shielded from view by the white wooden door. Hesitantly he lifted his hand, which was void of shaking, to his suprise. Why was he acting like this? It was just his family apartment and it had never changed within his life so why would the eery silence provoke such a feared reaction from him. The tips of his fingers brushed the cool wood, the grain still prominent under the touch and with the slightest of force the lightweight door groaned on in protest as it pivoted on its hinges and left the way open for Gareth. Gareth gathered his courage and entered the darkened room, now this was strange, his mother was always in the kitchen or the adjoining family room but the family-kitchen room was in darkness and void of his mother.

"Mom?" he called out a again, a panicked tone laced his voice as he stepped further into the room as he fumbled around the wall for the light switch. Gah, it was here somewhere, he raised himself onto his tip-toes as he continued to search for the light fitting blindly, and he shuffled along as his hand continued to caress the wall in search of the phantom light switch. As his foot collided with something he stumbled but caught himself before he could greet the floor, he let out a surprised cry but silenced himself when he heard a pained 'umph' and the thing he had tripped over suddenly disappear into the inky blackness of the room, now that he was aware of it he could hear more shuffling and scuttling and dancing shadows flitted around the room from what he could tell by the meagre light that entered through the windows from the dark street. Suddenly he stilled himself, fear gripping at his very being with its unforgiving claws and sheer ice pierced his chest, slowly he turned so his back hugged the wall, he took ragged breaths as he tried to calm his growing anxiety.

"Who's there?" he asked, his voice shook as he tried to steal himself for the confrontation that was to ensue. The constant movement around the room ceased and the silence was ear splitting.  
>"Princey scared" a bodiless voice muttered in the darkness and some hushed voices agreed. "Why Princey scared?" another feeble voice questioned. Gareth held his breath, the voices didn't sound remotely human unless they were very whiny young children but he squashed that idea immediately.<p>

_/And the Princes wished her younger brother away to the Goblin King and the babe was taken by the Goblins in the veil of darkness./_

"Show yourselves, all of you!" Gareth commanded, his voice taking on a hard edge that dwarfed the shaky unease of his voice to an afterthought. There was another hushed murmuring of voices that filtered around the room. Slowly dark bodies emerged from the consuming darkness of the shadows of the room.

"Princey just like Kingy" one small creature commented but was rewarded by a sharp whack around the crown of its head that nearly knocked its helm from its head, and a muttered curse and scolding followed.  
>"Hush Squelch, do you want his Majesty to find out that we visited the Aboveground without permission?" A larger goblin chastised with a hiss of warming that was distinctly male. The being dubbed 'Squelch' muttered something that Gareth couldn't recognise.<br>"You're servants of the Goblin King?" Gareth asked in amazement, a childish excitement filled his voice as his eyes lit up and his face bloomed into a wide smile. A small hand clamped over his mouth and a light weight was added to his shoulders and a warm gush of air brushed against his neck, the hold on his clothes as the creature clung to him as it perched on his shoulders held no malice or ill-towards him so his body relaxed somewhat.  
>"Shush, you don't want to call Kingy here- don't speak Kingy's name" the high voice spoke out.<p>

"Bubbles, release the Princey, if Kingy found out that you had laid a hand to him..." the large goblin spoke out, Gareth came to the conclusion that this one was the acting leader of these renegade goblins.  
>"Oh you big Oaf, I wouldn't hurt the Princey" Bubbles muttered as she removed her hand from Gareth's mouth but remained on his small shoulders.<p>

Gareth stared at the creatures in front of him in amazement, his eyes fell upon the large goblin, he was rather on the tubby side and came up to Gareth's waist height, he couldn't make out too much detail in the low light of the room but he could tell that this goblin was on the bald side, by the way the light shined on the crown of his head and had rather dark skin and ark clothing that resembled dungarees, the one next to him that he had called Squelch was lucky if he was half the height of the goblin beside him and his attire was strange, something you would find on a knight, a tunic, a leather belt with a dagger in its sheath and a horned helm off-centre on his head, wisps of hair falling into his chubby but rather scrunched face and large but beady eyes that stared back in wide-eyed wonder back at Gareth.

"What are you doing here?" Gareth asked his voice slightly breathless as he glanced between the numerous bodies that surrounded him.

"Princey called, so we answered" Bubbles replied, she sounded proud as she relayed the statement.

"I didn't call" Gareth replied immediately in disbelief and rather on the defensive side, murmurs erupted in the room and Gareth sucked in a breath.

"Princey doesn't know..." Squelch mumbled and other goblins murmured in unison. Gareth pinned the small goblin with a quizzical look.

"I don't know what?" he asked, Squelch muttered something and he averted his gaze from the Goblin Prince.

"It is not his place, Princey" the large goblin spoke up; his voice hushed the gathered creatures. "None of ours places" he added as he glared at the small being on Gareth's shoulders, upon seeing the glare the creature shrunk back into the shadows to hide herself.

Bubbles huffed and the weight was lifted from Gareth's shoulders as she jumped to the ground in front of the large goblin.  
>"Then why come?" she asked, she had spunk to challenge a he-goblin three times the size of her. "Why come and visit Princey if we cants tells him nout, Gangle?" she continued.<p>

The large bald goblin grunted and grumbled something under his breath as he contemplated Bubbles logic – she was smarts for goblinfolk.

"Wes here to make Princey happy" Squelch piped up, his helmet on his head tilted further into his face and off to his oversized ear. "Princey sad" he continued as he trotted over to Gareth in a rather hilarious looking strut that bordered on ridiculous. "Squelch and goblinfolks make Princey happy"

Bubbles shook her head; her hand greeted her head in defeat. He-goblins were rather simpleminded but none compared to Squelch.  
>"Squelch-" she began, giving the small goblin a stare that ceased his mindless ramblings. "Princey doesn't need friends"<p>

Gareth regarded the small creatures in silence, yes, he was sure he was going mad, that had to be the only explanation for all of this madness. He blinked back in shock; they were trying to make him happy and by trying to become his friends?  
>He furrowed his browns in confusion, they were servants of the Goblin King so why were they here without his knowledge to visit him of all people. Now that he thought of it, he didn't have any real friends to name except for Uncle Toby so that was rather a short list so, why should he add to that list?<p>

"I like having friends, considering that I don't have many" Gareth mumbled.

All of the motley crew of goblins turned their attention to the Child of the Labyrinth; there was a look of surprise on many of their faces. Ok, maybe he should reconsider all of this.

"Princey wants us' to be his friends?" Squelched breathed out, a look of sadness crossed his wide face as he noticed Gareth's down trodden face. Gareth steeled himself, he didn't need pity.

A wide grin appeared on Bubbles face as she leapt with joy with a cheer that started off the fellow goblins except for Gangle.  
>"We'res Princey's friends!" she cried, a wicked laugh, which was rather infectious considering that her fellow goblinfolk joined her in the cackling.<p>

"Ssh, don't wakes Missus" Gangle scolded, which silenced the crowd within moments. "Wes has to be a'goings, Princey, Kingy will notice us gones soon en'gh" Gangle added.

"I's don't wanna goes back and leave Princey behinds" Squelch muttered, a pout forming on his lips.

"Do you want to be thrown in dat Bog?" Gangle growled out, his eyes sweeping the crowd.

"I don't want you all to go" Gareth whined, his eyes beseeching the goblins to stay.

"We has to, Princey, or ya Ma would finds us or Kingy would finds us here and you Princey" Gangle explained in his rather broken and childish English but to Gareth it wasn't one bit annoying.

"Will you come back?" Gareth asked, looking from Bubbles, the only she-goblin in the group to Squelch and Gangle.

"Yous bets ya Princey, all you has to do is call, is all" Bubbles beamed, a wide pointed-toothy grin lit up her face.

"How do I call you?"

"Just speaks are names, is all" Squelch added.

"Yes, just calls me, Squelch and Bubbles names and we shall be there" Gangle finalized and with that they were gone and the lights flashed into life and illuminated the room with their bright glow.

Gareth turned round to face the hallway to the sound of shuffling, that's went he saw his mother appear from her bedroom, closing the door behind her. "Hi Mom"  
>Sarah trudged along the hallway, rubbing her eyes to try and rid herself of gritty sleep.<br>"Hello Gareth" she mumbled, filing into the kitchen and began to make a mug of hot Jo. It seemed that she was in her robotic mode, as Gareth and Toby dubbed it, she was always like this in the mornings after waking up, she was in this robotic half-asleep mode until she had her coffee fix to try and wake up good and proper- as she called it instead of being in a half-asleep daze like she was now.

"What are you doing up?" she asked, looking at the digital display of the time on the microwave.

"Huh?" Gareth was a little perplexed by her question. He wasn't sure if he should tell her the truth, well not all of the truth. "I came to get something to eat – I'm starved"

Sarah sipped at her straight black coffee, it took a lot of strength to not gasp and wince at the strong taste.

"At this time, honey?" she asked, looking up at him from her steaming drink that she cupped in both hands. "I know that you missed dinner but you looked out for the count"

Slowly Gareth slunk to the breakfast bar that separated the lounge from the kitchen, that's when he noticed that his mother was in her fluffy robe and he glanced down at himself to finally notice he was wearing his blue striped flannel Pjs. He lifted his gaze to his mother with pure confusion written on his face and the bright green digits stared back at him from the display on the microwave. 04:37. It was half four in the morning, seriously?

A/N: This was long so I had to stop it somewhere.

And for **Kankurosnumber1girl –** I begin writing the next chapter in the evening I post the previous chapter, I update quicker than most authors of chapter stories, some update every week, fortnight or monthly but my viewers are lucky to get a chapter every few days or just under a week it all depends on my muse and if I don't have writers block. I just ask you all to remain patient, I have a life outside of writing fanfiction, I have a child to look after and this is an outlet.


	9. Chapter VIII

A/N: I'm sorry for the late update, I had bad news this week, my childhood dog had to be put to sleep because there was nothing that could be done, he had stopped eating and the vets found a large cancerous lump. My mother phoned to tell me and I just didn't feel like writing, I didn't want to put any morbid and dark vibes into this story early on.

On a better note, I still tried to write this chapter even though it was hard to and we've finally got some plot action.

I have to thank, **ChocolateBunnyChan, **for the constructive critique on my chapters I appreciate it and I did go back and change the double negative and from now on I will try and put some punctuation after my speaking bits, it's a habit that I have to get out of seriously.

**Comment Corner:**

**JHaines – **Thanks, your comments make my head grow to impossible sizes but the confidence that follows after the gloating makes me write the next chapter and rather rapidly because I don't want to leave my readers hanging and I don't want to leave myself hanging.

I must sound rather giddy and rather over excitable when it comes to praise but considering I only just passed my English GCSE (I only got a C) it explains a lot.

**LadySoy – **Yeah, I know what you mean, my three other stories haven't been completed because of the lack of interest but if this story continues to reap in reviews like 'Please continue', 'Oh I want to read more' etc. I will continue this story to its completion.

**L'archangel – **I'm glad you found that explanation enlightening, you will find many more historical views, mindsets and some theories in this story and of course I will explain them in the next chapter for anyone who finds them confusing.

**Chapter VIII**

The constant dripping of water, that was the only noise to pierce through the sheer darkness that consumed the musty damp room, the stone walls were sodden, moss clung to the rough surface between the joins, slime and murk water seeped through the walls like a sponge that couldn't take any more water. Torches sat in their pedestals, the flames danced like lovers, flicking one way and rolling to the next in a never ending dance, the warm glow illuminated the consuming blackness in a murky orange light, the wood crackled and popped as the fire ate away.

"Astral Projection?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it."

"But no one has had that power since that Villain," another voice growled out, slamming the soft heel of his fist on the wooden table to show his point and his growing anger.

"Humph, those Usurpers will pay for the Lose at the Wastes," another voice muttered, this voice was also male but had a shrill like quality that made him rather feminine compared to his fellow brethren.

"Calm yourselves brothers, we shall have our revenge on them all soon enough," a calm masculine voice crooned out, the four other men turned to face the end of the long table and the man that sat in the Head chair, the dark wood was ornately carved with grotesque looking ghouls with faces contorting in pain and silent screams and dragon like serpents with mouths agape with sharp teeth trying to swallow the figure that looked to be in the image of a human babe. Rum red eyes glared out from the darkness of the room to his brethren.

"When, Garwain?" the angry man from before gritted out, his blue eyes narrowed at the man at the head of the table, the eerie creature shrouded in darkness, the cold shiver creeping up his spine didn't silence him as he continued.

"In another ten thousand years?"

"Gethen!" Heilyn gasped, that was definitely the feminine man that had spoken before.

Garwain remained silent but the air grew thick and heavy with magic, slowly Gethen sunk lower in his seat in submission as he couldn't withstand the constant pressure that assaulted and over powered his senses. Gethen glanced away; the fire in his eyes had vanished.

"Soon, my Brothers."

Only four more days, including the weekend, he could survive this mental torture until then. Well he hoped so- he was rather sick of spending his days at his Grandparents house while his Mother worked, it wasn't like Karen paid any attention even though he was in her care and he didn't really care for it. It was rather boring being coped up in his Mother's old room that had become a 'un-official' room for him if the need ever arose but he had yet to use it for overnight purposes. Everything that made this room his Mother's bedroom had been removed, the cubby shelves for her toys were gone, the canopy over the bed, gone, and of course the dresser was in his Mother's own room back at their apartment but Gareth had never seen his Mother's bedroom as it was before he was born, upon moving out Karen immediately emptied the room and it took everything from his Grandfather from stopping Karen converting the large room into her personal dressing room.

"6x4" Gareth muttered as he stared at his exercise book, his pen hovering over the page ready to put ink to paper but he couldn't until he worked it out, placing his pen down he looked at his hands, fingers curled in a loose fist and slowly because to count his fingers, uncurling them as he counted. "1...8...12...16...24" picking up his pen he wrote the figure down after the equal-sign with his childish chicken-scratch.

Oh, Mathematics was rather tedious and boring compared to other subjects but he had already finished his History and creative writing for English. In defeat he placed his pen down.

"Oh this is so boring" he sighed, leaning back in his chair, no fancy swivel computer chair for him.

Slowly he began to hum a tune of one of his favourite songs and the hum transgressed into a soft murmuring of the opening lyrics.

'_I can't remember anything  
>Can't tell if this is true or dream<br>Deep down inside I feel the scream  
>The terrible silence stops it there...'<em>

His mother hated that morbid song, but those opening words- that first verse summed him up, was his life true or is it just all a dream but the dream couldn't hide the reality – that he was missing something to the point he wanted to scream.

He knew that wasn't the actual full story of the song- it was about death and war; they come in hand and hand in most cases throughout history – bloody battles and loss of life for a common cause. Humans are such aggressive animals of the fauna kingdom, but it against themselves or hunting 'lesser beings' like deer or other game or predators such as tigers or wolves. Why did there have to be war over petty things like the Brits and the Argentineans for the Falkland Islands and the Cold war to but name a few of the conflicts of recent history.

Ah, here he was again, going off at a tangent yet again when he should be finishing his school work but the equations didn't call to him like his inner musings or childish adventures.

A childish wide grin grew upon his face, his perfect pearly whites gleamed, a sparkle entered his eyes and he leapt up from his chair and carefully as he could in his haste stood on the seat, his hands grasped the back of the chair to balance himself. As his confidence grew he tentatively released one hand with a wobble, stilling with his arm outstretched, fingers fanned out to grasp at thin air, when the shaking stopped he reignited his efforts, the other hand released the back of the chair and he was standing up straight to keep his balance in his high centre of gravity. His left hand came up, clenched in a fist, his right hand tucked into his side, his elbow stuck out in a mock Superman pose.  
>"Sir Gareth to the rescue!" he cried in glee, slowly he dismounted the chair in reverse, backing up so he could kneel down, his hands grasping at the sturdy arms for support as he slid on leg from under him and repeated it with his other leg to stand.<p>

Shimming himself free from being wedged between the chair and the small desk, he ran to the small box in the corner of the room that were filled with Toby's old toys that Karen had so graciously had allowed him to use. His hands drove into the mass of toys, shovelling out the toys out of the box to try and reach the toys he was looking for.

"Ah Ha!" he cried in triumph, thrusting the plastic sword high into the air. The wide grin shrunk and disappeared from his face as he slowly lowered the sword, his eyes fixed on the broad side of the grey plastic sword.

"It'll be no fun without anyone to fight with," he murmured, his lips curled down into a frown. He lowered the sword, the sword slicing the air with an audible 'swoosh' to point at the ground. The sword was battered; the golden guilt paint on the scabbard was thin and patchy- missing entirely in places. The worn look continued to the blade, the grey worn through to show raw black underneath. The sword was small and blunt and rather ineffective for its supposed purpose but it was only a toy and it had to be like that unless the company wanted to get sued.

Then an idea came to him, a smile spread across his lips to replace the frown, the saying 'turn that frown upside down' had become reality as a giddy chuckle erupted in the room that bloomed into outright laughter. "I've got it!" he cried out but he suddenly hushed himself into silence, he really didn't want to attract Karen's attention.

Silence. That's what greeted him and for that he was thankful that he didn't get scolded by Karen for the noise and the lecture that would surely have followed when she saw the plastic sword within his hand to play AFTER you've finished your school work.

Now, what did they say, oh yes, their names he only had to say their names and they would appear? He wasn't so sure; it couldn't be a straight forward as that surely, yet he silently rolled his tongue, tasting their names in silence before he actually called them to this realm, if they would even appear. The group did say that their master, the Goblin King did not know of their appearance in the Aboveground to see him the night previous so they might not be able to come and see him after all, even with their half-hearted promise that they would – whenever he called.

"Squelch, Bubbles and Gangle, err, I need you?" he called out meekly, his voice was raw in the silence, his eyes darting from left to right and around the edges of the room into the dark shadows to try and catch just a glimpse of movement as they darted around the periphery of his sight just like before. But he saw none of that. No flitting of movement as they danced just beyond the reach of his eyesight.

He let out a sigh, the exhale of breath was loud and long and a voice of disappointment.

"Why is Princey sad?"

Gareth couldn't believe his ears, he sucked in a breath and stilled himself, no his hearing was playing tricks on him, and they couldn't be here could they? Yet the gruff high-pitched voice that was, if memory served him right, was Squelch's, there was no denying the voice was surprisingly familiar if the voice didn't belong to the small he-goblin. Slowly he turned round, sword still clenched within his hand, his knuckles white as he gripped the sword tight to keep himself rooted to something.

And there in front of him was the Squelch, in the light of day he could see the he-goblin's skin was of a pale grey colour with something dark smeared here, there and everywhere, but Gareth resisted the urge to scrunch up his nose at the sight of Squelch, goblinfolk were not known for their cleanliness but seeing one in the flesh made his stomach flip with distaste. Somehow stories about goblins didn't give their lack of cleanliness justice.

"Your- your here?" Gareth breathed out, the silence had eaten away at him, and the shock of seeing the goblin here wore off and finally released its tight grip on his throat to allow him to speak, even though the question was rather breathless.

"Of course, we'res heres Princey," Bubbles chimed, Gareth whipped round on the spot to see her sitting on the desk, her eyes fixed upon his open Maths exercise book with a look of distaste on her face, upon feeling eyes on her she looked up to meet Gareth's eyes, a sharp toothed smile on her face, her wide eyes closed in glee. In the next moment she opened them and blinked at the surprised fish look on Gareth's face.

"Gangle couldn't makes it, Princey, please forgive him but he workses in the Kitchens," Bubbles began; Gareth gave his head a mental shake to wake him from him stupor.

"Err..." Gareth, paused, well he didn't know what to say in the first place. "Yeah, sure." He continued, knitting his eyebrows together and unknotting them as he tried to get his head around this. "Err...Sorry, I thought-"he began yet again, trying to explain his rather quiet demeanour.

"You thoughts we wouldn'ts comes?" Bubbles asked, cocking her head to the side as she studied his stultified face.

Gareth just slowly nodded in complete silence.

The smile appeared on Bubbles face, wide and toothy and off-white and bitty, her sandy hair falling into her face from under her grey maids cap. Her infectious giggle consumed the silence.

"Oh, Princey..." she finally managed to choke out as she tried to calm her fitful stomach muscles that wanted to continue to contract and let her carry on her cackling laughter.

"Hey!" Squelch finally exclaimed, Gareth half turned around to see the small he goblin out of the corner of his eye, well he couldn't call him small if he was comparing him to Bubbles since he was actually taller than the she goblin that inhaled and exhaled loudly to calm her breathing.

"What's thats you gots there, Princey?" he asked, trotting over to Gareth, his eyes fixated to the thing in Gareth's right hand, his black beady eyes trained on it without even blinking.

Gareth looked down, his eyes widened slightly in surprise to remember that he still clutched the sword tightly. "Oh this-"he began, lifting the blade up to the level of his eyes. "It's a plastic sword" he explained, lowering his eyes to the halted goblin at his feet.

"I wanted to play but I had no one to play with..." he said, his voice drifted off as a small frown appeared on his face.

Squelch looked up at him in wide-eyed wonder, an 'ooooooooohhhhh' noise drifted past his open lips that stayed agape.

A smile appeared on Gareth's face, merriment entered his eyes and Squelch shrunk back on instinct, those eyes looked all too familiar to the Goblin King's, his master always got that look in his eyes when he wanted to bog someone for his own amusement.

"Do you wanna play?" he asked innocently.

Squelch and Bubbles grinned in unison.

Laughter and chaos ensued with flailing swords and mock deaths that could have gained an Olivier award for their drama but none of them noticed the bouncing branch while the others did not move in the stagnant air or the retreating silhouette of a large bird.


	10. Chapter VIIII

A/N: Ugh, I'm so sorry for the lateness of this chapter but I've been trying to create long chapters. I had wrote this chapter down in my writing pad and I've only just finished the draft because of a little someone going through teething- because of this I had about two hours a day to write and do menial things around the house.

From now on I will be letting my readers guess the song that featured in the previous chapter. All songs will be from prior to 1995, to in keep with the timeline so American readers I would appreciate song choices from you (since some songs don't come over here from the US).

The song Gareth was humming/singing was 'One by Metallica', dated 1988. I would advice readers to listen to the track. Songs reflect on the mood of the chapter, something I work on, I listen to selected songs while writing the chapter and hopefully people can tell it reflects in my writing.

Now on with the story!

Additional Note: I have re-published this chapter with additional scenes to the end of the chapter that needed to be in there to flow nicely with the next chapter.

I'm not dead, I've just moved and have a full chapter ready to type up. I have not abandoned this story but I find it difficult to write these earlier chapters when I'm hung up with muse for later more exciting chapters.

**Chapter VIIII**

He was perfect. He was a harmonious balance between himself and his mother, he could admit that. Just by being near the child in his base animal form where intellectual thoughts were over shadowed by predatory instincts and the reluctance of being out in the day, he could still feel the child's pull, his inner magic calling out to him and it saddened him that it was only faint. The silky tendrils enveloping him, coiling around him and calling for him like a siren's call to a sailor, if he could have frowned in this form he would have done so. The misty blue tendrils clung to him, beseeching him to stay but he knew he could not- or face the same fate that befell any creature of magic that dwelled in the Above for far too long but it seemed it's clutches were already around the core of the child, the soft blue light he could see within the child's chest, waned and spasm trying to fight off an unseen force that only allowed more tendrils to drift away and disperse into nothingness

He couldn't hear what the child was saying but the childish actions, the smile spread wide and agape that he presumed to be laughter. Oh how he wished to hear the rich roles of laughter; was his laugh like his mothers, innocent and infectious or like his own. He could see Gareth jump to his feet and mount the chair and use it like a pedestal for his 'defiant heroic' pose, he felt his chest swell, ruffling his feathers he let out a hoot – it was his only outlet for his chuckle.

But the foreboding feeling returned, his avian heart flittered away in his chest as his molten amber eyes trained on the boy that rushed about the room in glee, he was busy rifling through a rather tatty cardboard box in the far corner of the room, his back turned to the window as he stood and raised the toy that looked to be a beaten sword tight within his clutches. Jareth couldn't see his face but he felt it, the saddened pulse rippled the air of the room and he could feel it to his very bones and tried to repress the rolling shiver as he fluffed up his feathers to gain much needed heat. That child went through as many mood swings like someone suffering from bi-polar or a menopausal middle-aged woman – both which he had to deal with as runners of his Labyrinth over the years and he was rather glad that these acquaintances were few and far between.

Has his child been like this throughout his short life? Jareth mentally frowned, he remembered the warnings of the Aboveground when he was a child, no one with magic could stay in the Above for far too long or run the risk of losing their magic and slowly become mortal – the time for one of magic to become mortal varied between species, age and the potency of their magic. He remembered accounts of elves leaving the Underground to dwell within the Above, the accounts were somewhat long winded because of the age and language used, the community of elves had lasted on average about five centuries before succumbing to mortality but that factored in that they were all virile adults with powerful magical ties. On all accounts his son was lacking, his son was born within the magic barren world and even at a tender age he was fighting it's effects0 it was only his strong blood that kept his magic alive while he was still within the womb and to last into childhood was a feat that made Jareth's heart swell with pride but he knew that Gareth's inner magic wouldn't last forever, it would lose the battle someday unless he intervened. He couldn't let his heir succumb to an existence below his birth right even if it meant stripping him from his mother. Sarah, oh Sarah, he had yet to see her but he knew that she was still as selfish as her childish self, letting her son suffer while she remained ignorant. He felt his heart beat into a quicker tempo, the mere thought of her allowed anger to consume his very being; his talons clung to the branch, his claws biting into the spring green bark of the delicate supple branch. She had hurt him for the last time, a wicked smile graced his face, he shall hurt her while reclaiming the product of his issue – it did not matter that Gareth was not of a legitimate issue, no Fae would voice their damning thoughts since every child was precious. There had been no births for the Fae in roughly four hundred years give or take a few decades, not even coupling with other magical beings such as elves, nymphs or humans from their grown changeling stock bared fruit. None. This made him all the more precious.

Jareth was broken from his revelry when he felt the pull, the edges of this world morphed and rippled very close to him; his sharp avian eyes scanned the area then fixed back on Gareth- there! He could see it, the air within the room rippled and figures pressed into this reality, transparent figures that warped their surroundings like refraction of objects in water. As quick as the shapes appeared and pressed within the veil they were there within the room, two little figures with green light dwelling within them marked them as ones of the Goblinfolk. A scowl marred his inner humanoid facial features. Why were his goblins visiting his son?

As he studied them he could tell by their body language and how they were reacting to one another they had met before but that begged the question – where had they met before?

He looked on with half heart as Gareth used the plastic sword to fence off with Squabble, Squilch or was it Squelch? He wasn't sure about the he-goblin's name but he had seen the sorry excuse for a soldier often within the Goblin throne room, with that observation he flew away with a reeling mind full of questions.

The breeze fluttered through his wings, his feathered tips stretched out as he effortlessly used the uplift to support his slight weight with ease until he had to beat his broad wings soundlessly to send him on his way. The calming effect of flying helped him ease the worries that played on his mind somewhat but he knew that when he shifted into his humanoid form they would return tenfold.

Anaraward sighed, he seemed to be doing that more so now than before but of course, always in his private chambers with his most trusted servants about him or alone in mind and body as he tried to make sense of it all. He knew that his son would have had a child at some stage in his life, that he was sure of even with the fertility crisis, he had to keep up the Royal Line or the Fae community would be pulled asunder fighting for their rights to the throne – be them twice removed or not related at all. But with the realisation that he had a grandson he knew that stability would last for another generation.

"I beg your pardon, Anaraward."

At the mention of his name he raised his head from absentmindedly gazing at the writing slope of his desk, his quill still resting within the glass inkwell, the nib drowning in the black substance, his hazel eyes stared at the quill, his large hand gently grasped the shaft of his quill and removing the plain brown barred feather, the silky hairs were uniformed and curved into a loose point, this quill was made from a large outer flight feather indicated with the lack of fuss running along the shaft from point to tip. The feather was large and it was needless to say it was too large to be from any mortal bird alive today. A small wistful smile graced his pale lips, it had been so long since he had transformed into his avian self. Glancing down at the ink laden tip he lowered it to an off cut of course paper to the right of the failed attempt at a summons for his son, with practised ease and unfathomable tenderness he glided the tip of the excess ink onto his blotting paper. With the job done, and most importantly the tip had not split with the pressure he replaced it on its rack on his desk ink-well, the pure silver stand in the shape of a coiling dragon, it's claws suspending its body from the desk, the two glass ink-wells fit snugly between an infinity coil of the serpentine dragons body. Its chest rising up, mouth agape with delicate teeth, the quill resting within the depths of its throat, the burning brown plumage of the feature flashed from burnt orange and raging brown-reds to smouldering browns in the imitation of live flames in the setting sun as it eased into the room.

Anaraward didn't turn around, not just yet, he let out another sigh as he tried to cleanse himself of his own thoughts and with that he turned around to see the floating orb of blue energy, swaying from left to right and bobbing up and down, a small chuckle escaped the High King, the delicious rolls of laughter lightened his heart somewhat.

"I see you're impatient as always, Spirit," he joked, his hazel eyes danced in merriment, the flecks of orange, green and slight hint of lavender swirled within his iris.

"We don't have much time, Anaraward. I feel the boy's magic dwindle with each passing day, it has been his contact with me that his magic has not dwindled into nothingness upon his birth," The Spirit countered, the feminine twin to the dominant voice had disappeared within the seriousness of the situation.

Anaraward processed this information with his stoic court mask within place; he couldn't let his biased mind affect his judgement.

"For that I and my son are grateful, Spirit," Anaraward replied, the tone of his voice kept the Spirit silent, how the words flowed from the High King's lips let himself open to continue so the Spirit of the Labyrinth let the Fae King continue.

"But you know that his day would come and the boy would have to be returned to the Underground where he belongs –," Anaraward began but the consuming voice of the Spirit interrupted him.

"He cannot be stripped from his Mother, I will not allow it!"

"If it has to be done, then it shall be done, it will be easier for the child to accustom to our ways than his Mother- she is a mortal and has only been touched by the magic of the Fae only once within her life. She is no changeling, remember that Spirit," the High King countered, a hard edge cutting through the warm calm tones of his voice. Anaraward thinned his lips in anger and concentration, he knew that child had to be taken from the Aboveground soon but he didn't want the child to grieve the loss of his Mother. The Seelie might be mischievous and tricksters to the mortals but rarely wanted to actually intend harm upon the magic-barren children of the Aboveground.

"As your past protector I implore you to see reason, a child's hatred is one thing you and the Goblin King would regret receiving and that hatred will grow as he grows and will remain until your dying days, do you, Anaraward, want to treasure that side of your grandchild and change him to an Unseelie?" the Spirit of the Labyrinth drawled, its voice was light with hope but sharp as it cut into Anaraward's defences.

Anaraward mentally and physically flinched at the Spirit's words, his stoic mask crumbled to show shock that quickly changed to sadness as the corners of his lips curled downwards and his eyes softened. The Spirit of the Labyrinth spoke of wise words and in a way that was effectively to the point that Anaraward was reconsidering. The Spirit of the Labyrinth was the protector of the Child of the Labyrinth, the second in succession for the High Throne of the Underground and the Fae King. Anaraward remembered when he was a mere babe that grew into a child, he was always accompanied by the Spirit like an ever present personal bodyguard, to protect and to be of council for the childish worries or fantasies- to this day the ageless Spirit remained his confidant even though he had grown into a Goblin King and in turn became the High King of the Underground as he was now.

"I don't want to rip the Child from his Mother unless it's necessary but I find that will come to that if my Son had his way.

"The mortal has kept his son's existence from him for the entirety of his short life. I for one would seek something akin to revenge for these grievances the Champion of the Labyrinth has made upon my Son." Anaraward mused out loud, leaning back into his chair, his fingertips tracing the brass tacks that kept the padding on the arms in place.

The Spirit was silent for moments at a time, contemplating its answers before it spoke out to the High King.  
>"I fear that the Goblin King is already seeking to steal the child as we speak, King Anaraward, King Jareth is more intense and impulsive than yourself.<p>

"I wanted the Child's mother involved from the beginning but Gareth has found his way into the Underground without being guided by myself and found himself within this very castle- this cannot be a coincidence," The Spirit spoke out, it knew it shouldn't go against the Royal Family but it couldn't just announce their was a Child of the Labyrinth born in the Aboveground by the mortal Champion of the Labyrinth when the Goblin King was still nursing his wounds of rejection. No, he kept the child's existence hidden because it knew that the Goblin King would steal the babe and leave it without it's mother but now Gareth had grown into a child and could decide where he wanted to be and who he wanted to be with but- there's always a but – the pull of magic could be too strong to let Gareth make the decision with a clear mind without being guided by magic that he would be instinctually drawn to.

"I see you're taken with the boy," Anaraward chuckled, the rich sound bubbling up through his throat, deep and hearty.

"I protect the Child of the Labyrinth, as I have for many generations and it takes nought to get attached to a child that has such life, something I remember from my days guiding yourself, Anaraward,"

"Ah Ha, I see you still have your quick tongue and you still drop all formalities in private," Anaraward playfully countered pushing himself up to stand from his seat, his deep red robe flittered with the sudden movement but settled down with little fuss.

The echoing laugh of the Spirit engulfed the room.  
>"You know me all too well, Anaraward, I know you too well for all those boring formalities,"<p>

Anaraward's lips quirked into a small warm smile as he gazed out of the lead paned window, the warm hues of the sunset casting long shadows and purpled hued clouds drifted lazily in the sky. The smile slowly left his face.

"Watch over him, Spirit, I know you will do a great job as always."

"Of Course, Anaraward," The Spirit replied humbly and the blue orb vanished without a trace, the Spirit knew a dismissal when one came about.

The fun was short lived, he didn't want Bubbles and Squelch to leave but he knew they had to, if their pleas about not wanting the wrath of their Master and something about the Bog of Eternal Stench- whatever that was – was something to go by. A small smile tugged on his lips at the memories of the cheers and mock deaths by Bubbles and Squelch, a wistful smile graced his lips. He didn't know when they would come back or if they could come back but he knew that he didn't want to get them into trouble with the Goblin King, he could be rather frightening and he had only just me the man. What did he say... oh yes, that 'You're her Son', he didn't know what he was implying but he couldn't deny he was Sarah Williams' son. He could remember the shake of the Goblin King's voice and his eyes – they were so intense!

"Gareth, Your Mother's here!"

The sound o f Karen's voice flooded his senses and brought him out of his musings, his eyes snapped to the bedroom door, it was slightly ajar so he raised his voice.  
>"Coming Karen!" he called out.<p>

He pulled out his backpack from underneath the desk and began to pile his exercise and textbooks into his back in haste, pulling the zipper closed he slung the Thundercat backpack over his shoulders. He raced downstairs and was greeted by the sight of his Mother and Karen standing in the kitchen with a cuppa in their hands, cautiously he approached, his sneakers making little sound as he lightly stepped on the carpet but he knew his element of surprise was gone by the way he bolted it down the stairs like a heavy footed Rhino.

Both of the women looked over to the open doorway to see lil' Gareth there wearing his summer jumper, it was red with a band running through his upper arm, continuing to his torso and into the other arm and diamond running from the top to the bottom of the beige band, the diamonds were varying in shade from crimson to dark brown.  
>"Hello Sweetie, I hope you've been good for Karen," Sarah beamed; a small smile graced her lips as she gazed lovingly at her son. Karen let out a little giggle which made Gareth scrunch up his face.<p>

"Oh he's been superb like he always is, Sarah, he's a good little boy," Karen said in her sweet voice, ugh, she was just too sweet and too full of herself. Gareth closed his eyes and grinned, he hoped it was convincing, but when he opened his eyes to see his mother staring at him but not actually looking at him set him on edge.

"Mom?" he meekly called out, the reaction he got from his mother was promising, she shook that cloudy look from her eyes and returned to the present.

"Yes Gareth?" she asked, her moss green eyes fixed on her son that still stood in the hallway.

"Are we going soon?" he simply asked.

"Oh, yes, yes we are," she said, tripping over her own words as she placed her empty mug on the counter.

"I guess we'll be seeing you at the weekend?" Sarah asked as she looked over her shoulder to Karen who kept that beaming smile on her face.

"Of Course," Was Karen's cryptic reply.

Something was going on here, he could feel it, Karen was never this smiley and all happy like. He glanced from his mother to Karen and back again, he didn't know what to call it but he had a sixth sense for figuring something was amiss.

"Come on Gareth, we want to get going before we hit the school run traffic," Sarah said, while rummaging through her handbag for her car keys, finally grasping them in her hands she slung the straps over her shoulder and clutched the bag to her side with her arm.

"Yes, Mom," was Gareth's reply as he edged towards the front door, he really didn't want to go through their 'lovey-dovey leaving ritual' he called it with dread.

"Where's my goodbye, Young Man?" Karen's high feminine voice made Gareth cringe and tense, great it doesn't matter how many times he tries to sneak out he never gets away with it, as he turned to face the devil-woman with a pout on his face. The look on his face must have looked amusing because Karen and his Mother started to lightly giggle.  
>"Oh come here you, "Karen fussed, walking over to him and lightly hissing him on the cheek which his promptly wiped off with the back of his hand while making an 'urgh' noise which made Karen lightly chuckle again.<p>

With that display Sarah bid a hasty goodbye and left with Gareth in tow, the drive back to their apartment was rather dull.

"Mom, can I put the radio on?"  
>"Yes, sure sweetie," Sarah beamed without taking her eyes off the road she pressed the power button on the centre console and the silence in the car erupted into life. The radio was on Gareth's favourite station, it wasn't a channel with new rubbish, no, he loved the old stuff and the older presenters on the station, compared to others this channel played constant music most of the day.<p>

"Hello Listeners! Now it's time for another song. This is Forever Autumn by Justin Hayward," the cheerful voice of the middle-aged presenter buzzed through the speakers. After this announcement the music gradually increased in volume as it was phased in. Gareth bounced in his seat as he recognised the melody.  
>"Gareth, sit still," Sarah chastised as she glanced at him through her windscreen mirror then back to the road in front of her.<br>"I don't know why their playing that at this time of year," she muttered to herself, it was the middle of spring.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, to sum it all up, Gareth watched his cartoons while doodling with his sketch pad and crayons on the coffee table and Sarah used the time to relax and cook their evening dinner then sent her son off to bed after brushing his teeth. Sarah went through the routine of reading his favourite book to him before he went into the land of slumber.

Now that left Sarah curled up under her bed covers reading the dainty red leather bound book in her hands, her eyes scanning the pages with great intensity but the gaze nearly bore a hole within the page as furrowed her eyebrows in the fashion she saw her son. "What no one knew that the Goblin King had fallen in love with the Princess and had given her special powers," she mumbled, her eyes stilling over that said passage, her mind reeled as she reread that line over and over again within her head repeatedly, hot tears prickled her eyes as she willed them not to spill. Oh, what was she doing. She'd been asking that for the past eight years- what are you doing keeping the baby, Sarah? What are you doing moving out, Sarah, Dad and Karen really want to help? What are you doing keeping the baby from him, Sarah? All these questions had different subjects but the construction of the question was always the same. She was so cruel, Jareth's past words haunted her even now because she knew deep down that she was cruel, smiling at her son with a smile she used to reassure him but more so reassure herself. The first silent tears slid down her cheeks leaving glistening trails down her cheeks. The hot tears began to drip on the pages of the book and only then did she urgently wipe her cheeks and eyes as she tried to rid herself of her sadness, she glanced down at her damp hand with surprise, why was she crying? Her thoughts were clouded and numerous to the point of distraction that she couldn't pin-point a single thought that made her react so passionately.  
>"Oh Jareth," she mumbled as she tried to dry her damp cheeks. "I'm sorry, so, so, sorry," she continued as her hand caressed the open pages of the book that she kept deep within her heart.<p>

A/N:

Please, send me feed back in the form of reviews or PMs, it keeps me motivated.

And as for the plot hinted at an earlier chapter – who do you think is a main supporting role?  
>I would like to hear your opinions.<p> 


	11. Chapter X

A/N: Finally, the next chapter and it's heating up gradually. Dun, Dun, Dun, and another Original Character is revealed. I hope you like. :D

This chapter is small but I want to get to the big surprise and Gareth's 'abduction'. ENJOY!

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><p><strong>Chapter X<strong>

Friday was the greatest day of the week, it was the only day his mother had off from work and with his absence from school left him with the entire day with his mother and he loved it! He could watch his cartoons and eat with his plate on the coffee table and his mother wouldn't mind. Slowly he stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth with a look of pure concentration etched onto his face as he let his crayons glide along the paper as he pasted the time drawing away. Placing the coloured pencil back in the assorted crayons on the coffee table he replaced it with another and continued to create his 'master piece'. Slowly he placed the crayon back down a contented sigh left his lips, a small smile on his face as he looked over his shoulder to see his Mother behind him on the blue couch, looking over him at the television.  
>"Mom?" he asked, his voice beaming and cheerful.<br>"Yes, Gareth?", she asked, tearing her eyes away from the television to her son.  
>"Do you wanna see my picture?" he asked, carefully picking up his drawing pad and passed it to his Mother's awaiting palms.<br>"Of Course, Sweetie," she beamed as she carefully grasped the drawing pad in her hands, tearing her eyes away from Gareth's awaiting face, she glanced down at the picture that Gareth had completed.

She couldn't deny that he held an artistic skill beyond his age, the anatomy of the bird was slightly off but more anatomically correct than she could have created without referencing from a photograph still or a live animal. She let out a gasp, the wide molten eyes stared at her and dived into her soul, the light usage of the burnt orange accented the white plumage of the Barn owls face, the dishes seamlessly merging into the browns and speckles of the rest of the body.

The delight left Gareth's face as he gauged his Mother's reaction as a negative.  
>"Gareth, why did you draw this?" Sarah breathlessly asked, the astonishment left her face and was replaced with wonder as her left hand ghosted over the image tentatively as if she was petting an actual bird.<br>"It was in my dream," Gareth murmured after a pause. "It kept following me and then I followed it to..." he continued, a beaming grin split his face as his voice grew in volume and enthusiasm but when he remembered his Mother's reaction about The Labyrinth and the Underground he fell silent and his face became one of apprehension not excitement.  
>"You followed it where?" Sarah pressed. Gareth bit his lip before answering.<br>"The Labyrinth and the Goblin City,".

Sarah's heat stopped, her knuckles turned white as she clutched the drawing pad for dear life, she felt white-hot tears stinging the back of her eyes as she tried to will herself not cry- she had to be strong for her son.  
>A sad smile graced her face as she handed the pad back to Gareth.<br>"It's beautiful, Gareth," she beamed, ruffling his ebony hair in jest to lighten the mood but she couldn't will the ache in her chest to dissipate. Why did he have to draw him, if it was him but she couldn't deny that it was highly improbable that Gareth just drew an ordinary Barn Owl and most disturbingly – dreamt of said Barn Owl in a dream? She wanted to weep, hide and deny the inevitable – that Jareth would find out and her worst fear would become a reality and he would take the child – her child. Oh Gareth – the life she had condemned him to because of her paternity. To be unknown to one parent while the other selfishly kept him hidden to – do what exactly? Keep him safe, no, or to keep her safe from ever meeting the fearsome king – more probable.

* * *

><p>Jareth's face was cracked into a wide grin, his pride and happiness at succeeding in swaying the child to the Castle beyond the Goblin City within his dream but now he had to sway the boy in the reality. The ground work for the temptation had been set, the wonder evident within Gareth's eyes as he followed the owl back to the Underground, just remembering it made his heart swell and it was but a few hours prior. The allure of magic was still strong even to a Sidhe child, a magic deprived child as well – Jareth sorely remembered the spasm of the magic core within Gareth when he paid the boy a visit. He looked down to the stacks of parchment in leather bounds, the paper work of a monarch was tedious and time consuming. He stored a mental note to visit the boy after he made a dent in the piles of correspondence.<p>

"Sire?"

Jareth snapped from his revelry to glance up at his attendant.

Edwin, the fae was roughly the same age of himself but born of lower rank he was chosen to be Jareth's 'friend', a friend that would do anything he asked without question, advise him when he need council and the role of a friend with an open ear and tight lipped mouth.

The Fae gentleman was dressed in a deep burgundy, Jareth's family crest, embroidered upon the left breast resting upon his heart and enlarged to cover the entirety of the back's midsection. Deep blue eyes searched the mix-match of his Monarch's.

"Jareth?", he called out, trying to get the attention of the King and break him from his stupor.

Jareth's eyes demisted as he blinded back the fog until he looked into the confused blues of Edwin.

"His connection to the Underground is becoming stronger," Jareth muttered, dropping his quil with a clatter onto the wooden desk.

"The Boy?," Edwin asked, his curiosity unguarded at this new information. Even being Jareth's most trusted council he too was left in the dark about the most part about his plans about the child in the Aboveground. He was surprised as Jareth confined in him about the existence of Gareth after the abrupt dismissal in Court by the High King and the mortal child that suddenly appeared in the assembly in the Claiming of the Heirs.

It had taken many moons for Jareth to entertain the idea that he must claim an heir instead of produce one – the royal line had to be continuous even if not by blood to keep stability within the Underground. But the plans of claiming Tobias Williams as Jareth's heir was dashed and he silently rejoiced that Jareth had sired a child – even though he was a bastard that mattered little in the time of need.

"He is..." Jareth began but paused as he fluttered his eyes closed to conjure the images Gareth had sent him. "...very artistic and has drawn a likeness of me in my animal form."

"So he has a talent for the Arts, none surprising with his heritage," Edwin critically drawled, returning to the papers in hand. "Hopefully he will not be, as the mortals say 'a prima donna' like his Mother," he added with a bite accented with the sting of paper angrily swishing through the air as he turned the page.

Jareth scoffed as he lent back into his chair, the wood squeaking in protest.  
>"He will have these tendencies beaten out of him if need be," he threatened, his voice light and mocking but it still held that edge of seriousness that made people falter but not Edwin.<p>

"Come now Jareth, just being scolded by you would suffice for a child that is foreign of the ideal of having a father figure," Edwin casually bantered back, if it were anyone else that had spoken so freely to a monarch and to get away with doing so.

Jareth bit back a hearty chuckle, rich roles of laughter penetrated the air making Edwin crack a smirk as he gave his King a side long glanced before bowing his head in appreciation and returning to the parchment in front of him.

"The boy shall have a father figure soon enough when he returns to the Underground," Jareth laughed, controlling his fitting laughter to die down subtly into silence. "At the cost of his Mother, of course," he continued on a more serious note.

"Um," Edwin grunted in acknowledgement as his eyes scanned the scroll within his hands. "It seems that the news of the Child of the Labyrinth has reached the Elves of the White Forest and request that he shall be entered into society at the Summer Solstice Festival," he murmured, glancing back up at his King to gauge his reaction.

Jareth's face fell into a scowl, the Summer Solstice was months away but to ask that a royal to be introduced at that young of an age into society was uncommon but the Elves of the White Forest were closely linked to the Fae royal line, being close allies and linked by blood through a prominent ancestor in their history.

"It'll be too soon..." Jareth murmured as he turned his head to the side to gaze out of the window. "With only months to prepare him..." he continued musing, glancing back to Edwin with intensity in his eyes that made Edwin's hairs stand on end, prickling in warning as the air cracked with magic. "Who requested it?" he asked his voice strong and forceful but full of hesitancy.

Edwin glanced at the parchment, his eyes scanning the rolling elegant script to the signature.  
>"Eryrion of the White Forest," Edwin gasped in disbelief, blinking a few to gaze at the name in astonishment, Jareth muttered a curse, snarling under his breath as he shifted to position himself in comfort.<br>"That meddling Elivish fool," Jareth muttered in heated whispers. "What gives him the right to request such a thing – to enter my son into Underground Society now – he's too young," Jareth continued to mutter.

Edwin chuckled at the display and the obvious agitation of his monarch and long time friend, his merriment earned him a scathing scowl from Jareth but he shrugged it off.  
>"You're acting like a mother hen – already skipped into the role of Father?" Edwin teased but his face shifted to one of bland seriousness.<br>"You cannot just turn him down, Jareth, even your Father hold him in high regard," Edwin said, his blue eyes glancing up to Jareth then back down to the parchment, the letter was written in green ink, very much like the Elves to stay green whenever possible.  
>"Of course, you share a common ancestor in Arianna of the White Forest,"<p>

Jareth looked off to the side and back out to the window overlooking the Labyrinth.  
>"Ah, the Consort to the The Lost King of the Underground," he mused out loud remembering the frequent history lessons within his youth.<p>

Edwin glanced at Jareth as he gained a misty look within his eyes as he stared off into the distance.  
>"And the Mother of the first High King after the Great Divide," he added, pausing as he grasped the knowledge of time gone by from the back of his mind.<br>"It was never written what became of the Lost King of the Underground – his name is not even recorded."

"Of course, he wouldn't be referred as 'The Lost King of the Underground' if we knew who he was, Edwin," was Jareth's dry reply, his chin digging into the heel of his palm.

Edwin bit back a hearty laugh at Jareth's sarcy comment. Oh – he deserved that one – that he was sure but the dormant temper ready to erupt was the thing that set his nerves on edge.

"Come now, Jareth, no need for the attitude, a request for the Child of the Labyrinth would have come sooner rather than later, and to enter him into society will put the Fae populous at ease – it's been so long since we've seen young faces other than changelings." Edwin implored if he couldn't sway Jareth into accepting Eyrion's request it would only escalate until it was on King Anaraward's desk and Jareth would have to do as his Father decreed.

"I'm his Father- I should have the right to enter him into society not my Fasther and that Elivish Twist," Jareth fumed, but there was no definite 'No' in his angered rant, much to Jareth's chagrin he knew his Father had the last laugh in this situation but Jareth could hope that the celebration would ease Gareth's transgression from the Aboveground and grow into his magic in the Underground.

* * *

><p>He was here again, in the Labyrinth running through the stone gardens and the confusing passages. Joyous rolls of laughter bubbled to life as he ran along gleefully, mussing the skip, hop and jump motion to the point it resembled skipping. Oh how he loved to be carefree, free from school, free from responsibilities and free from his Mother? His Mother? The very thought of her faltered his step, his sneakers kicking up dust collected on the paving slabs. Why did he want to be free from his Mother? His eyebrows furrowed and knitted together as he tried to grasp the reason from the clutter in his mind but no answer he could pull to the forefront to explain this... this silly idea. Yes, it was silly for him to even think of the idea of not wanting his Mother – she was his everything – his constant.<p>

Gareth halted in his digging of heels as he contemplated the answer but he didn't have one, his eyes scanned round the small walled garden, plant pots flanked the entrances. He suddenly felt deserted in the landscape, his hands clung to his upper arms to offer what little security it could give. Slowly he wandered over to a central stone bench, glancing around the arch ways he planted himself down. Oh he felt so lonely, so, so, lonely. Tears rimmed his eyes as he hunched over to rest his elbows into the flesh above his knees.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, staring off into the stone wall, his mismatched gaze scrutinizing the mortar binding the stones in a somewhat effortless join that seemed so smooth in it's rugged beauty.


	12. Chapter XI

A/N: I'm so sorry for the lack of an update for these couple of months but I have moved house, got news that my Father had a heart attack and the like but on a lighter note I have done a few sketches of some of the goblins that include Bubble and Squelch. I'll be uploading them onto my Deviantart account – you can find me under MichaelaElse.

Plus, the previous chapters will be revised so if you see some chapters disappear they will probably be having merged together with another or a few others.

**Chapter XI**

The light was fading and fading fast as he continued to run, his chest heaving ragged breaths in loud puffs before sucking in another lung full of air to propel him forward, he wasn't the swiftest of runners but he still was light of foot. His feet were beginning to ache with the constant pounding upon the hard surface that in his haste he couldn't identify. The emptiness was enveloping him, the dark creeping upon him ready to swallow him whole if he didn't make it to his exit in time for the fear he wouldn't exist in the end.

"WAIT!"

The elusive flying white object didn't halt its flight, its wings beating in swift erratic motions before gliding for a short while.

"PLEASE!"

Gareth ceased his breathless pleas as he neared the blinding white of the exit, his fingertips brushed the warm light before he left the sinking pull of the darkness he travelled through and into the blinding light, his eyes squinting to try and ease the sharp pain in his head, he stumbled, falling to his knees, the gravel digging into his outstretched palms from the impact. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the brighter surroundings, all he could hear was his ragged breaths and the watery gulps to try and ease the needle like pain in his throat from the cool air rushing in. He dropped his head, his hair obscuring his vision as he stared at the ground until he calmed his body. His head was swimming from the pressure of his pounding blood rushing through his body from his wildly beating heart.

Childish tears brim his eyelids, he choked back a sob, clenching his eyes shut in relief, the few tears spilling from his face and falling to the ground below him before he moved to lie on his side and curl up on the ground, his arms forming a defensive barrier to took his head in. He didn't notice the shadow standing over him until a boot scuffed the ground, alerting Gareth to his company.

Slowly his head poked out from his arms, his blue-brown eyes watery, and the icy blue having grown darker in his sadness as he gazed up to the shadowed figure that was unmistakeably the Goblin King. He was wearing those black knee high riding boots and dark brown breeches, a crimson red poet's shirt and a red leather waist jacket that looked similar to the one he was wearing before.

"Are you real?" he meekly asked, his voice small and feeble as he slowly began to sit himself up so he didn't look so vulnerable. He sat up with his legs drawn to his chest with his arms wrapped round him.

Jareth looked down at the small boy; he looked vulnerable and confused as he gazed back up at him with those watery eyes of his. He wanted to be proud of the boy to question if he were real or not; it was a feat to appear in someone's dreams. Many didn't know the difference between someone of their own creation or an imposter. He had been appearing in the boy's dreams for a few days now, it all panned out the same, the boy followed and stayed but it never escalated to this, the boy never realised that he wasn't of his own imagination.

"Yes" was his short reply, his voice neutral as he didn't move to comfort the boy.

"Why are you doing this?" he pleaded, moving to stand, he took a tentative step towards the great Goblin King.

"My doing?" he questioned taking a step to Gareth. "No, little boy, this is your dream and I have a role to play that you have cast me" was his humorous reply, a small smirk playing on his lips as he began to slowly circle the boy.

"But- if you weren't here then this wouldn't happen!" Gareth cried out, whipping round to face Jareth, he wouldn't present his back to the fearsome Goblin King.

With that Jareth had to laugh, the boy was short sighted, not looking further than what was right in front of him. His rich laugh rolled off from him that just provoked Gareth to frown in the manner he had once seen on his Mother. With that his laughing ceased and his lips had drawn into a thin line.

"You would still be drawn to this place and would have found yourself here even without my help" he began, bowing at the waist, a hand propping him up around his knee so he could gaze at Gareth from his own height. Some people would find it rather patronizing. "You belong here" he concluded, his voice full of finality.

Gareth shook his head in disbelief, his eyes reflected his uncertainty.  
>"I don't understand," was his small reply, his head still shaking slightly.<p>

Jareth gaze grew hard for a moment before he calmed himself, the boy was emotional and he just had the let it run its course before putting the boy straight.  
>"You. Belong. Here." He said, punctuating every word, stringing out the final syllable that made Gareth's brow crease with his intense frown.<p>

"I-I don't belong here" Gareth replied somewhat hesitantly, shaking his head, his face doubting his own decision so he altered his reply as an afterthought. "I don't wanna leave my Mum" he added taking another step backwards.

Jareth sneered at Gareth; it would come down to his stupid Mother. That witch that hid this child from him, his own flesh and blood and she had the cheek to ask forgiveness. He stood back up to his full height, now Gareth refused an offer that he was drawn to for the loyalty of his Mother.  
>"Why would you want to remain with her, unhappy, wouldn't she want you to be happy?" he asked, all anger vanishing from his face as he went to his knees, slightly gazing up at Gareth, a stray hand coming up to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, his leather clad knuckles tracing the boy's plump cheeks. He was so gentle, he had a son. That thought even know still brought him a standstill, everything ceased – even his heart, just for a moment before the elation followed the shock.<p>

The question brought more tears to Gareth's eyes, some stray tears spilling and began their slow decent down his already moistened cheeks.  
>"I dunno" was his dumbfounded reply.<p>

Jareth's heart went out for the lad, the poor boy was so conflicted, here was the fearsome Goblin King, asking an ultimatum from a mere boy yet he didn't show it on his facial features, his features sharp as they always were, high prominent cheekbones, narrow scrutinizing eyes and defined eyebrows that melded into his fae markings above his eyes.

"Where do you want to be?" Jareth kindly asked his voice gentle as not to startle the boy or make him more emotional than he already was.

Gareth nodded dumbly, his eyes fixated upon the Goblin Kings, not wanting to blink but too curious to become intimidated or embarrassed by his open curiosity.  
>"I like it here" he murmured, not really wanting to outright prove that the Goblin King was right – he wanted to be here, he used the words 'You. Belong. Here.' And he was right, he felt like he belonged.<p>

Jareth smirked; it took a lot of control to stop himself outright grinning at Gareth's reluctant confession, the look upon his face as he grumbled it out begrudgingly with a small pout upon his lips, his eyes downcast as he dare not look into the great Fae's eyes. It was strange that he hadn't even told the boy they were actually related, that they were father and son.

Their current surroundings blurred and the desolate bushes and gnarled trees became distended before vanishing from sight, the wasteland background replaced with a luxurious bedroom, a large dark wood four poster bed set in the centre of the wall flanked by matching bedside tables. The bed clothes were a rich burgundy, the draping matched, all of the furniture matched as Gareth began to discover more with a sweeping gaze as he turned slowly on the spot. A wardrobe, dresser, chest of draws but what captivated him was a ornate style rocking horse, it was something you would see in an antiques shop, it was finely crafted in the Victoriana style, it's noble warmblood neck arched majestically, it's chin tucked, ears pricked foreword and wide glassy eyes alert. Its hide was a light dappled grey, its tack something seen on a knight's steed. On a table there was an ornate chess set, the white made out of ivory by the looks of it and the black made of some shiny stone.

This place looked like a child's room. At this revelation Gareth looked back around to Jareth, the fearsome Goblin King, the look upon his face was puzzling, a silent question within itself with a small quirk of his eyebrow and his beseeching eyes.

"This will be your room" Jareth replied simply.

"My room?" he asked, dumbfounded as he glanced again over his shoulder back over to the rocking horse that captured his attention yet again- he had dreamed of having something like this, a magnificent steed to play with in his childish fantasies as Sir Gareth but he would never own something this magnificent not with his Mother's meagre wages but he was never big on material things that's how he gained such an overused imagination.

A small frown appeared on his face as he looked down at the stone floor and then back to the large window, the winding of the labyrinth drifting and merging with the haze of the distance.  
>"Why do you want me in the castle?" he abruptly asked, his eyes drifting back over the Goblin King, the man shifted from one foot to another but nothing showed upon his face.<p>

"Why wouldn't I?" he countered, his heeled boots tapping on the stone flooring as he began to circle Gareth again, not wanting to stand still and always the predator. "I take care of all of my charges"

"The children you win? What happens to them really?" Gareth eagerly asked, forgetting his goal as he took a step towards Jareth in eagerness. A playful smirk crossed Jareth's face before he sobered.

"They're adopted by families from within the Underground" he replied, feeding Gareth's need for answers with little fuss. He took a step closer to his unknowing son.

"So why keep me?" Gareth innocently asked, his head cocking to the side as he studied Jareth's face and eyes for truthfulness. Jareth wanted the sway the boy from this conversation but it seemed that his Fae nature compelled him to answer truthfully as he could without divulging all the truth to the boy and shock him.

"Because, you are something special and I would be the envy of all the Underground" he confidently and cryptically replied, a small toothy smile growing upon his face, his hearty laugh echoing as everything faded away into emptiness.

The sunlight leeched into the room, casting a muted glow about the darkened room, the curtains acting as a filter, banishing the strong light to the outside world as Gareth rolled away from the window and into the shadows as he fought the waking feeling as the light gave a glow behind his eyelids and awoke him from unconsciousness. An urgent alarm jolted him awake as his groggily lifted his head and glared daggers at the vile alarm clock perched on his nightstand. The ringing of the bells banged in his eardrums and brought him close to destruction as he swiped the vibrating object to the floor, ceasing it's annoyance with a metallic 'clunk'.

He moaned as he rolled back onto his back, his eyes cracked open as he gazed at his bedroom ceiling, still nestled within his cocoon of blankets entangled around his limbs in his sleep as he guessed when he was thrashing. He didn't seem rested, his dreams normally soothed him but this-this dream troubled him to no end. The Goblin King had never paid any visits into his dreams before, well the owl had followed him and he in turn followed the animal to the Goblin Kingdom but he never believed that creature would be the Goblin King.

A light tapping noise brought him from his musings as he gazed at the closed door before it creaked open, his Mother popping her head in the check in on him as she always did in the morning be it on school days or at the weekends before she went to work but today she didn't have to go to work.

"Hello, Sweetie had a nice night?" she asked, her small kind smile nearly brought him to tears at the memories that were still fresh within his mind. He confessed he liked the Underground more than he liked being with his Mother, all she had ever been was kind but sometimes stern as she stamped her authority and he shunned her, neglected her and turned his back to do what? Walk into the waiting arms of the Goblin King that in their first meeting spoke of him and his Mother in contempt and mildly contained outrage. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't, he loved his Mother too much to do that to her, and it would devastate her, well he hoped.

Seeing his shaky intake of breath Sarah sat perched on the side of his bed, her hand running through his hair and down his cheek in a soothing fashion that just made Gareth hate himself even more. He let the Goblin King comfort him like that – if it were actually real.

"Ssh, had a bad dream?" she cooed, sitting perched over him, an arm braced either side of him, keeping him caged and protected as he calmed his breathing and wiped some stray tears from his eyes before gazing up at her with an innocent smile.

"Yeah, but I'm fine now" he replied somewhat more confidently than he was actually feeling as he sat up and hugged his Mother fiercely. "I love you" he murmured as he nuzzled into her shoulder, her arms enveloped him, some hand toying with his hair.

"I know, I love you too, Gareth" she murmured, as if this moment was going to be somehow overheard, this private moment. Leaning back she gazed into his eyes and patted his cheek. "Now get ready, we're going to the park today and meeting Toby, Grandpa Robert and Grandma Karen" she cheerfully swayed the conversation away and stood up and breezed to the door, looking over her shoulder with a hand on the door, taking a last long loving look, something deep within her eyes seemed so sad and reluctant at even going to the park, or was it something deeper?

But before he could ask about the strange look she was gone and the door clicked closed, leaving him in his bedroom to get dressed and ready for the day.

The morning preparations went without a hitch; Gareth got dressed, had his breakfast, got his coat and sat quietly as his Mother drove to the park. The drive was somewhat longer than usual with the weekend traffic but they soon arrived at Sarah's childhood neighbourhood and the large green park with its numerous boating lakes, ponds and small fishing spots nestled out of the way, the manicured lawns, shrubbery and flowerbeds were alive with colour. The picnic benches and tables were full and some families were left with blankets on the grass – away from trees mind you to stay away from troops of ants. The playground was full and noisy, the swings occupied and the slides had cues longer than the flight of steps. Safe to say the entourage moved away from the masses and walked a fair distance, over the stone bridge and closer to the more wild part of the park that boarded the woodlands.

Karen and Sarah laid the picnic blanket neatly and began to unpack the sandwiches, salads and sweet treats like scones and slices of chocolate cake, the top topped with icing sugar and the middle wedged with gooey chocolate crème between the two slices of chocolate sponge. Robert, Grandpa Williams was keeping the boys out of the way and swiping something before everything was laid out.

"Hey, Gareth!" Toby called out before throwing the Frisbee high and straight, straight, straight into the pond, the light circular bit of plastic floating on the surface. "Oh, Man!" he groaned as he stared at the Frisbee floating out of reach on the water and it didn't seem it would be floating by the shore anytime soon for any of them to scramble to reclaim it.

"Looks like we'll have to start eating" Robert eagerly and breathlessly announced before tiredly staggering over to the picnic spot and plopped himself down. Toby and Gareth didn't need to be told twice and ran past him laughing as they rushed to get first pick of the sandwiches and claim most of their favourites.

"Calm down, boys, leave some for us!" Karen jokingly chastised as she saw both Toby and Gareth pile their plates high with sandwiches – Gareth with his egg and cress, peanut butter and jelly and his personal favourite, ham and cheese salad with piccalilli.

Both boys looked up in unison, Gareth holding out a triangular sandwich to his awaiting mouth while Toby had already begun consuming his first mouthful. The sight was rather amusing causing all of the adults to laugh.

"But Mom, you make awesome sandwiches!" Toby confessed after gulping the mouthful down, the compliment was well deserved but in this case used as a get out clause of hogging all the sandwiches. Toby was wearing a light red cotton t-shirt and steel grey cargo pant combination, his sandy blonde-brown hair and blue eye combination made many people think twice about scolding him.

"Yes, Grandma Karen" Gareth eagerly added before taking his first bite from his egg and cress sandwich. He had a closed complimentary smile on his face before he began to chew. Gareth was wearing a light blue cotton blue t-shirt and full length trousers. His black hair and his bicolour eyes so foreign to his Uncle Toby that was just a few years his senior. He knew that Grandma Karen wasn't his Mother's Mother, so they weren't related by blood but related all the same he called her Grandma even if she could be too sweet at times. He had only seen Grandma Linda only a few times in his short life since she was off performing with Jeremy. He couldn't say he missed her; she seemed odd whenever she saw him, always wanting to distance herself as did Jeremy.

"Oh honestly, people would think we didn't feed them!" Robert laughed, still picking and choosing his sandwiches at a languid pace, taking a sandwich in hand before taking a bite, chew and swallowing before continuing. "Boys will be boys though."

Sarah was silent; a small smile upon her face but sadness was still lingering in her eyes as she looked longingly at the obelisk not so far away from their chosen picnic spot on the green. Her hair long as it was but tied back in a high ponytail with her long fringe tucked behind her ears. Her plate had remained empty on the picnic blanket.

"Sarah", Karen said, her voice raised slightly to try and get the young woman's attention.

Sarah's head snapped round to the older woman, her hair was still strawberry blonde if not dyed around the temples to keep the appearance of a youthful but sophisticated woman of a middle-age rather than bringing the 'mutton dressed as lamb' term to life. She was wearing a light dress blouse and floral skirt with a wedged sandal.

"I brought that 'thing'" Karen added, her voice exaggerated, the lift of the eyebrows got all the three men, Richard with a dumbfounded look while Toby and Gareth had a look of curiosity with wide eyes.

"What thing?" Toby asked.

"Oh!" Sarah beamed her face brightening up as she got up on her knees while Karen got a package from in the picnic hamper, and handed it to Sarah, taking the soft thing from within the plain white plastic bag that gave no clues. "I know you always wanted archery lessons so I and Karen booked you and Toby in for a 6 week course"

Now it was Robert's turn to laugh at the dropped jaws on both of the boys.

"Really?!" Gareth exclaimed, forgetting his sandwiches and stood up, a grin split his face before he ran off wooping along, skipping at times before being dived bombed by Toby and both began rolling along on the grass laughing their heads off.

Karen and Sarah began to laugh along with Robert.

"Oi, you two, you forgot to look at your bracers!" Karen called out but the boys had already run off into the thicket breaking the tree line of the looming woods.

Karen began shaking her head as she lightly laughed before slicing a small chunk of her chocolate cake with the side of her fork. Robert's chuckles began to die as she patted his wife's hand before returning to his sandwich in companionable silence.

Sarah began to pick up a sandwich, her hand reaching out before it stilled as her gaze locked onto an ever familiar sight sat upon the obelisk no more than 100 feet away, her blood ran cold and chills ran up her spine and all joy drained from her face to be replaced with dread as the barn owl took flight towards the way the boys had gone. Without thinking she stood up, brushing her trousers before making her excuses and went into the wood under the pretences of retrieving the boys.

The leaf litter didn't aid in her need to be stealthy, her breaths and her footfalls were all she could hear- the forest was too quiet for springtime, there was no song birds singing their songs. Sarah glanced all around her, the canopy of the woods blocking most of the light from reaching the forest floor but some rays bled through the gaps between trees or individual leaves upon a branch to aid her way. Her sneakers crushed dried leaves, snapped fallen twigs, her blundering snapped supple stems of passing ferns. Her urgency unaffected by the devastation she was leaving behind in her wake as she remained quiet, searching for any sound or hair of Toby and Gareth but there was nothing.

"Hello, Sarah"

That rich foreign voice that reminded her of a British accent with an unknown twist made her heart flutter, she twisted around to face the way she came to find nothing. She couldn't be mistaken, that voice, it had to be his.

"A bit flighty aren't you, Precious Thing?" he asked, his voice humorous and a view octaves lower as his husky voice caressed her ear, his warm breath made her skin tingle. Her heart was beating rapidly as she tried to pluck up the courage to look round and face the Goblin King.

Slowly she began to turn and there he was; he had taken a few paces so she could take him in. His fashion sense hadn't changed; he still wore the same ensemble that she saw him most frequently while she ran the Labyrinth. Black calf high boots, egg blue breeches and a white poet shirt and black waist coat. Also, neither his hair nor his face had changed; he looked exactly the same while she looked older. She crossed her arms around her middle in a silent passive way of defending herself as she looked at him.

"Where are they?" she asked, her voice growing hard as she locked eyes with him, her moss green eyes hard as she knitted her eyebrows in anger as she took a menacing step towards him, her arms coming to her sides.

"They must be in the Fairy Ring by now" Jareth replied, his voice somewhat bored as she looked up at the canopy, finding her threatening displays a waste of his time. "Then Gareth will be off your hands forever."

"You can't do this!" Sarah cried in outrage as she pointed a finger at his chest. "You have no power of us!" she added, putting a twist to the original words that just made Jareth out right laugh in her face, the back of his hand coming up to his mouth to hide his broad smile, his eyes holding mirth and cruelty that made Sarah lower her hand and take a tentative step back from the approaching Goblin King.

"Oh, but I have, Sarah" he said as he advanced as Sarah retreated.

Sarah's back collided with a tree trunk, her arms flat to her sides, and her palms on the hard ridges of the bark as Jareth invaded her space, leaning over her and whispering in her ear.

"Did you think I would never find out Sarah?" he asked his voice tender in its whisper, a hand behind his back while the other rested above Sarah's head upon the Birch tree. Sarah's breathes were shallow and light, her eyes wide like a petrified doe's upon seeing approaching headlights. He knew.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about" she murmured tentatively, she looked away from his eyes, her words struck a nerve as he growled against her ear and propelled himself backwards, turning his back to her before whipping back around.

"He's my son, Sarah!"

Sarah looked back up into Jareth's eyes; she didn't register shock as she remained with her back to the tree instead of advancing upon him with fight within her eyes.

"I thought I would have had more time with him before-"she began before letting out a bitter laugh, swiping her stray fringe behind an ear and looking back at Jareth. "You came for him." She finished, walking away from Jareth and looked about the woods in vain for her son.

"Is that all you can say?" Jareth growled out, he felt disappointed that she wouldn't fight, that she was resigned to the fact that he would take her son away from her. He wanted to relish in her anguish as she begged and he ultimately denied her. He wanted to know that she would wallow in depression for a time because he had stolen his child back but no. She defied him.

Sarah looked round over her shoulder before turning round to face him.  
>"Do you want me to beg?" she asked, taking a step towards him, her eyes becoming hard as she scowled at him. "It wouldn't change anything, it always ends the same, The Fae parent always collects the child," she finished. After she found out she was pregnant she looked up everything she could about the Fair Folk and records of the Goblin King.<p>

"He's my life, when Karen put the thought of abortion out there I just couldn't get rid of him – he was innocent" she began as Jareth remained silent; it seemed she had matured with the fact that she was a Mother. "Let me stay with him, please"

Jareth glared at her before smoothing out his features as he rubbed his chin with his gloved hand in contemplation, she had asked to come to the Underground.  
>"It's a shame Sarah, I cannot take Adults to the Underground unless they enter a Fairy Ring upon the Full Moon or wish themselves to me and since the next Full Moon is a few weeks away-"<p>

"I wish that the Goblin King will come and take me to the Underground", Sarah defiantly interrupted, unbeknownst of the growing smirk on the Goblin King's face.


	13. Prelude

Everyone within the Underground know of the girl who ate the peach and forgot everything - how she bested the King and his Labyrinth. But no one knows of the love shared between these two souls within the enchanted walls of the Labyrinth - except for the age of old, Spirit of the Labyrinth.

This story has already been told, we know how they had loved and lost but their story continues in another chapter.

But this tale begins many generations ago - when the Underground was still connected to the world we know and hate. Humans feared and revered the Fae - magical folk that lived in their realms up in the yonder hills. Superstition was common place - a young maiden could never wander too far into the hills alone or strike fear into her kin that she may never return. Men were plagued with the siren's call of the Leanne Sidhe - the seducers of the noble minds of men.

It was then on the Green Isle that a mortal High King was crowned - he was young and brash, kind and strong - the Fae weaved and plotted - and he would make a fine King. And as the Mortals danced upon their sacred hill the King of the Fae also celebrated. He was finally wed.

The High King of the Fae - the first of his kind - had found his wife with child to another man - the discovery upon the child's birth - the Castle's flowers did not burst into celebratory bloom of an heir. He was cheated - for even in these times adultery before concept of a legitimate child was frowned upon. He was childless and his heart bled upon the land - he crossed his borders for solitude and thats when he found her.

Not many know how - when or why but as the young princess- daughter to the mortal's High King - grew the King of the Fae was enthralled, bewitched by a mere mortal girl. Her bosom began to grown and her hips began to widen - her Father received many suits for her girl's hand in marriage. Yet as his infatuation began to grow -his heart grew heavy with the knowledge he would never know the beautiful Gwian - her glowing white skin, green jeweled eyes, red petalled cheeks and lips and flaming copper hair. So he sent the High King a message - asking for his daughter's hand in marriage - he offered his suit - but he was denied spectacularly without thought of consequence.

So he lashed out upon the Mortal world - their livestock and crops were plagued with famine. He set the fae to do as they will upon the mortals. The ill-gotten peace on both sides were broken and the Humans began to trap and kill the Hill Folk in public spectacles.

The Gods were angered. The Gods asked for peace - yet their two children did not answer.

The Fae King - he came and went by many titles - the Master of the Veil was one of these very things he had earned for barriers upon the spirit, dream or mortal world held no hindrance to him. He passed through them like smoke. And that is when he shielded the Veil upon the Mortal and Fae realms - strengthening it with his own magical essence - until the lower forms of the Fae were trapped on either side and the Mortals could not stumble upon their land uninvited.

With his subjects safe upon their own land - he set to weave another plan upon another plane of existence. Upon drifting to sleep he ventured across and plucked a budding flower and let it rest upon the dozing body of the sleeping princess before projecting himself into her dreamscape.

On that fateful night they met - spoke for the very first time - and what a heavenly voice the girl-child possessed. Yet she was unhappy - for her Father was deciding her fate for her.

Their nightly meetings continued - their relationship blossomed like a vibrant red rose - and they acted upon that passion like star-crossed lovers. They laid upon many a place - even upon the Mortals' sacred hill. And that was a fateful night - the sky was clear and the moon full and the earth humming with life given by the Mother Goddess.


End file.
